Syphon
by Dragon's Lover1
Summary: Syphon isn't your typical villain. She wants Megamind as her little slave. When she learns Metro Man isn't quite dead, she wants him, too. And with her powers, she just might have them... -OC Villain, Cyber Roxanne, Human Megamind - Rated for mild swears
1. Part I

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

**_Syphon_**

_Part I_

* * *

Things only got better and better after Megamind discovered he could be a hero. With Roxanne and Minion, the trio were unstoppable, solving any mystery, punishing any evil, and saving anyone in danger.

Megamind himself had never been more content with his life. Decades he'd spent as a villain, enjoying what he did while never being satisfied with it, and now that Metroman was no longer the hero, the mantle had fallen to _him._ Between tinkering with objects, having fun with Minion, solving crimes, and spending time with Roxanne (by far his favorite task) things couldn't get better.

Of course, he was wary, but he tried soothing himself with the knowledge that he was just paranoid. It was just as much a part of him as his blue skin. Still, he couldn't stem the thoughts entirely, the ones that said, _"If a hero can rise to stop evil, then evil can rise to challenge the hero."_

At least he had an advantage there; spending so many years being nothing but bad, he knew all the ins and outs. Every detail of being a supervillain was hardwired into his head. In fact, sometimes it rose up and caused him to do things he instantly regretted, from flipping over picnic tables ("Ah! Why did I do that? No, don't get up - I'm sorry!") to reflexively aiming his dehydration gun at anyone approaching ("Back! Back I said! Err - I mean. . .Sorry!") to sneaking into Roxanne's apartment and kidnapping her when he wanted to see her.

At least she was being very forgiving about that last one.

Even so, despite all this, despite almost _expecting_ for a supervillain to pop up at any time, he was still surprised when it happened.

All across the city, the TV and radio stations had all blanked out, feeding static, before a female voice announced, "Listen up! Megamind, _I challenge you._ I'll be on top of the Metro city tower until dusk. Face me - I dare you."

Neither he nor Minion heard the message, but Roxanne had. She called him up immediately.

He was almost ashamed to say his spirits lifted at just seeing her name displayed on his phone. _Almost._ He answered with a warbling, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeees?"

Normally his quirky answers amused her, coaxing a chuckle, but not this time.

"You've got trouble," she told him, tone serious.

A little red flag rose in his head. He snapped his fingers to get Minion's attention as he replied, "What kind of trouble?"

Minion scurried over with difficulty, having been testing out rocket-powered roller skates. He hobbled and stumbled as he took them off.

"Did you hear the news just now?"

"No. What happened?"

"Someone cut into the TV stations and issued you a challenge."

"Did you get a look at him?"

"The screen was blank the whole time - and it's a her."

His brows lifted. Well, that was rare. His ego surged up as he gave a careless laugh. "A woman, really? How dangerous could _that _be?" As he dissolved into disbelieving laughter, Minion joined in, though it was clear the fish didn't know exactly why they were laughing.

Roxanne's sharp growl snapped him back to reality, and the full implications of what he'd said came back to him. Before he could utter a single "oops" she shot back, "Just go to Metro tower! She said she'd be there until dusk." The line died.

Megamind winced. That. . .didn't go over well. With a sigh, he hung his head, almost bashing his skull into the table he was seated at.

"So. . .what was that about?" Minion asked, tentative.

After a moment, Megamind issued a low whistle and stood. Might as well go answer the challenge. Dusk was a half hour away, which meant he'd have to employ an air vehicle to get there in time. His fantastic brain went into calculations even as he explained the situation to Minion and assembled items he thought he'd need. Dehydration gun, always. Hologram watch, as usual. Jet boots, just in case - providing they launched correctly.

The jet boots were tricky. When they worked, he could fly fairly well, and it beat having a heavy pack on his back. However, the jets had to extend before firing, and therein lie the problem. Despite a dozen redesigns and calibrations, he could only get them to work forty-three percent of the time.

As he grabbed a few other trinkets, he ordered Minion to ready his rocketbike. Without having to be told, the Brain Bots came to him with his cape. Well, technically, Metroman's cape. But Megamind never went on hero business without it.

It was just so warm and _fuzzy_. He loved it!

Minion rode the rocketbike into the hangar/garage (which sported more in-progress and in-repair vehicles than running ones) from its usual place in the main garage with the invisible car.

"You know," Minion began as he dismounted, "if you could get those rocket roller blades to work -"

"Later, Minion," Megamind reminded him. "Just write down anything you think needs to be addressed. I'll be back once this _woman_ is behind bars," he added, unable to keep acid from his tone. Blast that woman - it was her fault he made that snippy comment. Her fault Roxanne was peeved with him!

Oh, she was going _down._

He took off faster than usual, darting into the sky and quickly reaching two-hundred on the speedometer. Grumbling to himself the whole way (he hated fights with Roxanne), he almost missed the shiny glimmer atop the tower when he reached it. With his cape whipping behind him, he came to a stop on the highest floor.

This tower brought back a slew of memories for him, and not many he particularly cared for. Lucky for him, the sight of the woman in front of him shocked most of the bad ones back into hiding.

She hadn't noticed him yet; her back was turned as she surveyed the ground, and the rocketbike had mufflers to make it as silent as possible - which, he discovered, was quiet enough that the sound of the wind up this high drowned it out completely.

From the back, he could see she had short pink hair and darkish bronze skin (which may or may not have something to do with the golden sunlight striking her). A body suit climbed to the top of her neck but left her shoulders and thighs bared. Stiletto, plat formed boots reached halfway up her thighs, with gloves mimicking them. Only the gloves are also covered in metallic claws, going from below her elbows to another inch or two off her fingertips in plates.

Though her clothes were mainly black, there was a duo of red lightning slashes down her back, and an additional pair on her gloves (top to claws) and boots (top to ankles). And all of it was shiny, like vinyl or latex. It reflected the last golden rays of sunlight.

She was surprising, in a sense. This was supposed to be a villain? He could have laughed. She didn't have an imposing collar, no intimidating shoulder pads, and there wasn't a single spike on her anywhere! Well, if you counted her spiked _heels_ she did. Those things looked deadly.

"Ahem," he said, loud enough to carry over the wind. He crossed his arms.

She glanced over her shoulder, her expression unconcerned, then turned fully to face him. Her eyes were yellow, her lips red, and there was a series of slashing red tattoos down her left eye, from above her brow to her cheek. Her nose and bottom lip bore silver stud piercings. It all stood out against her brownish skin.

Okay, with that and her slightly-annoyed-but-all-confident expression, she looked a _little_ bit more the part. Not by much though.

From the front, he could see matching red lightning slashes down her front as were on her back. However, she also had small jagged yellow bolts meeting across her chest and two more down her hips. She braced her hands there as he took her in, no change coming to her face.

"So you're Megamind," she said.

His eyes widened before he could control his reaction to her voice. Was the wind playing tricks with him? Must be - there was no way that was a human's voice. It was far too close to singing, bringing to mind old stories of sirens luring seamen to their deaths.

"Yes, I am," he managed, proud to find his reactions had not gone beyond that one look of disbelief. "And you are?" he prompted with a jut of his chin.

She waved her arm out and bowed graciously. "Syphon," she answered, smirking as she righted.

_Syphon,_ his mind repeated, but he recalled no mention of her anywhere in the news. He began a slow pace around her, careful of the edge of the building. He made an act as though he were sizing her up, though he'd already made his conclusion.

She may _think_ herself a villain, but she had a long way to go (not that he'd let her go anywhere but prison if she actually went through with the challenge). Obviously, the only reason why she wore those claws was because she had no real offensive powers. That was the same reason why he'd always used destructive weapons and controlled giant robots. Her heels and platforms added height, but she still wasn't on eye level with him, so she must have chosen them to increase her stout size.

Her bored look, while achieving its intended effect of making her appear confident in herself, was acted. After years of pretending nonchalance, he knew an act when he saw it. And while her tattoo looked distinctly _bad_, like a horrible scar, and her piercings labeled her a troublemaker, her hot pink hair undid that vision.

He tisked, stopping before her. "Syphon," he repeated on a sigh, as though disappointed. "Are you sure you want to challenge _me?_ Really?" He purposefully made his voice soft, giving her a chance to back out.

She thrummed her claws on her hips, clinking them. "No," she answered, and stun struck him. She really _was_ backing out? Some villain! "No, I really don't." Then she smirked, a wicked twist of her (abnormally) thick lips. "What _I_ wanted was to meet you. Megamind," she added in a hushed tone, full of awe. Her brows quirked.

Well. He wasn't so sure what to make of that. His confusion must have shown on his face, because she grinned.

"I'm surprised at you, actually," she went on. He had to shake off an icicle of lethargy at the sound of her voice - maybe that was her power? Her voice made people sleepy? - before he could refocus. "All these news articles about Megamind and his great creations and great plots and admittedly great entrances, and this is what I get?" Like he had done before, she circled him, shaking her head as though she found him lacking.

His gaze narrowed on her. How _dare_ she. Almost as though it was an angry animal being poked with a stick, his bad side was rising up. He'd dehydrate her and leave her in the desert. That'd show her!

As she circled she went on, "Look at you. Not at all the big blue alien I read about. What's this?" she asked, flicking her claw under his cape to flutter it. "White? And faux fur? Really. No high collar - I thought they were your _thing_ - and not a spike anywhere on you," she echoed his earlier thoughts. Back at his front, she looked him up and down, brows drawn in contemplation.

- Dehydrate her and then _bury_ her in the desert.

Then, meeting his gaze again, she smirked and shrugged. "Oh well. I guess things change. I guess I'm to blame for this. . ." she twirled her hand as if searching for the right word, "unimpressive meeting. If I'd gotten my act together a few months ago, I'm sure I would've been rightly intimidated."

At that, her odd behavior clicked into place, and he felt his face twist in disbelief. She still thought he was a _villain_, didn't she?

Before he could ask, she stalked towards him, forcing him to step back as she kept coming closer. When he was backed into the poles jutting up from the building (and suitably uncomfortable from the abrupt change in her attitude), she slid her arms over his shoulders, gripping the poles without nicking him with those claws.

"That's fine," she purred. He had to give himself another mental shake - her voice was much more alluring now than it was before. He had the urge to drop where he was and sleep. "I'll take what I can get," she said.

Take what? Wait -

His brain felt sluggish, but it began putting two and two together despite it.

A _clang_ drew his eyes down to the left, and what he saw left him wondering whether he should be paling or blushing.

Her booted heel had lifted and was now braced against a low winding beam. Add that to her arms and he realized she was boxing him in. But _why?_

Wait. Wait wait. Oh, no. . .

Her hands, her voice, her foot, the dark look in her eyes -

Was she attempting to _seduce_ him?

He almost dropped his jaw. This was. . .beyond. . . His mind went incoherent, fumbling over thoughts. What was he supposed to do _now?_ This situation had never arisen before! In fact, before Roxanne, he'd never even considered anything romantic before, let alone what Syphon was up to. This was because, before Roxanne, no woman had ever looked past his alien appearance (and he reminded himself that Roxanne hadn't seen past it either, until he had a stolen image she liked.)

Anger began to thread through him. Oohhhh, no. If he was going to picture _anyone_ in this position with him, it was damn well going to be Roxanne.

With a frustrated growl, he shoved her back, breaking her grip with the poles. She stumbled, but he managed to keep a grip on her until her dangerous wavering had ebbed.

Pointing at her, he snapped, "Don't you _ever_ try that again."

Her brows hiked up, surprise and not a little respect coloring her expression. "Really?" she checked. At his hard look, she gave a laugh - and he almost stumbled from the sound of it, _damn her voice._ "Alright, fine. But I'm surprised at you. Here I thought -"

"Yeah, you _thought,_" he interrupted. He made his tone brutal. "You thought I would show up here with a huge procession, covered in spikes to threaten you with pain of death. Sorry to disappoint."

She narrowed her gaze, determination flickering in her yellow eyes. "No you're not. But as I was saying, I thought you would respond in kind."

_To what?_ he wondered. _Your forceful attempt at seduction?_

She went on, "I know how cruel this world can be, just as well as you do." He thought she knew _nothing._ "So I know how. . .difficult it might be for you to find a willing partner."

_Partner?_ Ah, so she was talking about a girlfriend. He bit out, "I have one already." His pride stung that she would admit it so easily.

She quirked a brow, then sauntered closer again. Against his will, he backed up, but at least this time she stopped nearing him when he did. "Maybe," she murmured, "but does she love blue like I do?"

For a moment, the only thing he could focus on was the way her voice seemed to caress his ears. His eyelids grew heavy. But then her words snapped into place and he stared, both enraged and dumbfounded.

His inane reply was, "Now you're lying. You're not even wearing any blue!"

She snorted, and even _that_ was a welcome sound. "Because I look better in black and red."

He needed to find out what she was. Before, he'd thought no human could have a voice like that, and now he knew it for sure. She wasn't human. Which meant he had work to do, facts to dig up. And since she wasn't actually breaking any laws, he couldn't stuff her in a jail cell until he had his answers.

Heading towards his rocketbike, he swung a leg over as he replied, "We're done here."

_Clang!_

Her clawed hands were gripping the handlebars now, fury on her face, in her eyes. She bit out, "You're gonna leave me here, just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," he agreed, swiping at her hands. But she had a firm grip, and all he managed to do was bruise his hands against the metal gauntlets.

"Oh I don't _think_ so. Now listen here, _Minimind,_" she hissed, making him scowl at her. "You've gone and hurt my sensitive woman feelings. I wanted to unite with you, become a supervillain team-up the likes of which this world has never _seen_."

Now he knew for sure that she didn't know he was Metro city's new superhero. Well, it was time to break her image of him, then.

"A supervillain team-up?" he echoed, allowing an incredulous tone. There was that bad side again - wanting to mock her. "You don't read the newspaper, do you? Watch the news?"

Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth, rage filling her face. "Your point?" she snarled.

"Things change, like you so keenly pointed out. A few months ago, I changed to the _hero_ side. In fact, if you break a single law - if you step one foot outside a crosswalk when crossing the street - I'll be carting you off to prison. Get my meaning?"

She released the handlebars, jerking back as though he'd turned into a snake. "You'll be regretting this, you know. Being the hero makes you my _target._ You passed up having all this -" she patted her hips "- as your partner in _every_ sense of the word." Her eyes stressed the word _every_. "Now, instead of getting high-fives and massages from me, you'll be getting slaps and torn tendons from _these_," she hissed, wiggling her fingers, claws clinging together.

Okay, so maybe she was a better villain than he'd thought. _He'd_ certainly never reached that level of _pissed off._ And what's worse, even her death threats sounded pleasant, which had the effect of nulling the impact.

"Oh," he mocked, grasping his face in fake terror, "now I'm just so contrite! I made a terrible mistake, please don't _threaten_ me anymore!"

Tension shot through her, and more hatred filled her expression than anything he'd ever seen. She sucked in a deep breath, then tossed her head back and screeched. Instantly his hands clamped down over his ears.

Unlike all of the _other_ sounds to emanate from her vocal cords, this one rocked him, made his head throb. All around him he could dimly hear glass shattering. The scream was almost solid. He felt like he could reach out and touch it - if he dared uncover his ears to do such a thing.

That voice was _unbearable._

His sight began to waver, going blurry. His ears were ringing in time with her scream. But blessedly, at last, it ended. All the strength seemed to pour from him when it did, and he slid off his bike and onto the ground.

_Sweet. Heaven. _That. . .was the worst moment of his entire life. Her vocal cords were _clearly_ a force to be reckoned with. Soft and lulling one moment, devastating the next.

He was dizzy, his head swimming. Through the haze, he perceived her standing over him, but couldn't bring himself to move. She glared, hands limp at her sides, before kneeling down.

"_Megamind!_"

Roxanne?

Syphon's glance shot off to the side, and she made a sound of annoyance. He tried to turn his head, to look in that same direction, yet his body wasn't obeying. Trying to concentrate now (a feat in and of itself), he focused on moving his right arm.

Twitch. Twitch.

He focused harder, panic starting to course through his veins. If Roxanne got here. . .and he wasn't back on his feet. . . She didn't know Syphon's power. She could get hurt.

Twitch. Twist. _Yes!_ Slide. _Yes, yes!_

Close to his gun now. Syphon was backing off - no, no! If he lost sight of her, he might not be able to dehydrate her in time. And now, thankfully, he had a reason to arrest her.

He heard the hum of another rocketbike - Roxanne's. He almost smiled, remembering when he'd presented it to her. But now wasn't the time for this. His fingers itched closer. . .

"Megamind!" Roxanne gasped. Her bike shut off and then she was in his field of vision. He blinked slowly.

_Closer. . ._

She spared him a worried once-over before turning a hard glare to - where he guessed Syphon was.

"You!" she snapped. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Syphon answered, her voice careless - and lulling once more. He saw Roxanne sway; she was affected too? "Now, if I were to use _these,_ you might have to be concerned."

Roxanne's eyes widened, then narrowed again. Was Syphon displaying her claws?

_Got it!_

Uh, but now he had to _lift_ the gun. He began a mental chant for strength.

"You- !You- !" Roxanne hissed.

"Me, me!" Syphon mocked. "Name's Syphon, birdie. And you are?"

Megamind's eyes widened. _Don't tell her!_ he urged, though he found he could only make his jaw _move_. No sound came from his throat. _Damn it!_

- Dehydrated and buried _deep_ in the _arctic_. Good plan.

"Roxanne," his love ground out, ignoring his mental protests.

_Damn it!_

"I take it you're the _partner?_" Syphon guessed. "The _willing_ one?"

Roxanne's brows drew together in confusion; she didn't get the reference. "If you're talking about a partner against crime, you'd be right. Oh, and if you're talking about being his fiancé, you're _also_ right."

Syphon _humphed_.

"Now tell me what you did to him!" Roxanne demanded.

Chuckling was her reply. "I _sang_ for him," Syphon answered. "He'll be fully recovered in around two hours."

Still no luck lifting the gun. If only he could tell Roxanne to aim and shoot _for_ him. That would work.

"Reverse it, now!"

Ah, his brave little love, standing up to a villain like that. He supposed he'd always admired her for that. Dozens of times he'd kidnapped her, and never once had she screamed in terror or blanched in horror.

Although, demanding things of a woman he was starting to believe was more dangerous than he'd ever been seemed like a _stupid move_ to him.

_Don't provoke her!_ he mentally begged, his jaw moving. Air escaped his lips, but still no sound emerged.

"Okay, I will," Syphon said with that same bored tone.

He tensed what muscles he could. Oh, that was bad. He knew that tone. Maybe Roxanne did too; she cast a suspicious look as the other woman's footfalls neared.

Bad. Bad, bad, bad. This was bad. His previous panic grew stronger. Syphon was _lying_.

Then Syphon was back in his range of vision, leaning close.

"Hey!" Roxanne snapped, grabbing her by her high collar.

Syphon regarded her with a raised brow. "Yes?"

"Whatever you're thinking -"

"Do you want him fixed or not?" she demanded impatiently.

With a growl, Roxanne released her.

Syphon looked down again, meeting his gaze. As she leaned in close - his panic flaring, trying to lift the gun; Roxanne tapping her nails irritably - she whispered, "Here's a little treat, just for you. I introduced you to one of my powers. Now I'm going to introduce you to the strongest one."

He _really_ didn't like the sound of that. His jaw worked as he tried to curse her. It did no good.

Cupping his face with one hand, she ducked down and pressed their cheeks together. An instant wave of pain went through him. His muscles all tensed and bunched, twitching as they faltered and then reasserted themselves. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. He wondered if being electrocuted felt like this. Probably - it left no part of him untouched, just kept growing in agonizing waves.

And beyond that, a curious. . .lifting occurred. As if she were peeling back a layer of his skin. Between the pain and this feeling of being drained, he was thoughtless, mindless. Which was a feat itself considering at no other time in his life had his brain stopped working.

The blank slate of his mind upset him more than anything else.

He heard Roxanne yell out, but couldn't discern the words - as if he'd forgotten them. Then Syphon yanked herself back and he heard Roxanne _scream_.

Roxanne never screams.

He snapped his eyes open, forcing his deadened body to sit up -

Just in time to see the girls struggling with one another and pitch over the edge. He struggled to get to his feet, failed, and scrambled to the edge of the building.

Both women were freefalling, but his eyes were glued to Roxanne. No - no no _no! _

Pushing himself as hard as he could, he got to his hands and knees, hardly able to coordinate himself. His previous panic was _nothing_ compared to this. All he could think of was getting to Roxanne.

_Nonononono! Have to get to her _-_ Roxanne _-_ nonono! _

She was still _screaming._ The sound was so wrong coming from her.

He forced himself up and onto the rocketbike, fumbling to turn it on, glaring at his useless fingers. _Quickly!_ he snapped at himself.

It roared to life. This. . .was going to be tricky. But he'd be damned if he didn't try.

__

_****_

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You know, I had a lot of trouble making this appear as I wanted it to, and it still didn't. Because, I don't know why, fanfic doesn't allow the doubling of special characters. Which is sad, cause I use double-hyphens as breaks in thought and dialogue a lot, and I use triple hyphens as scene changes - like the way books have them with several spaces or little stars.

As an additional note, I'd like to say that I have art of Syphon up on my page at deviantART. However, as it's impossible to add any links to chapters, reviews or even PMs on fanfic (it removes the entire URL when a dot-com or http-colon-slash-slash is included), this is the best I can do:

Http :/ /dragonslover1. deviantart. com/ art/ Megamind-Syphon-186591639

Copy and paste the URL, then take out the spaces, and you should be taken straight to the picture. If not, check my bio (by clicking on the blue, underlined _Dragon's Lover1_ at the top of the page) and a link to my deviantART page is on it.

I've had people ask me _how to get to my bio_ before, and others repeatedly ask for a link in reviews/PMs when it can't be done, going so far as trying to include their email addresses - and wouldn't you know it? The addresses _also_ never show up.

More notes to come if/when I feel the need to add them. Also, if you find mistakes, please mention them. From a block of italic text that shouldn't be to a typo lacking a single letter, these are things I need to know.

Lastly, thank you to everyone who read down this far, thank you twice to those who review, and thrice for those who watch this fic.


	2. Part II

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

**_Syphon_**

_Part II_

* * *

Roxanne could hardly believe what was going on. She was falling - likely to her death - off the same Metro tower that had once almost killed her. If she survived this (which she doubted), she was _never_ coming back here again.

She'd only come here in the first place because she was worried. Yeah, Megamind had annoyed her earlier with his _"how dangerous could that be?"_ comment. And yeah, a part of her wanted to see him fall at the hands of a woman just to prove her point. But when she'd learned that _nothing_ seemed to be happening, she'd had Minion bring her rocketbike and rode it up to the top. Her instincts had been screaming at her to interject.

And her intuition had been correct. Her heart had nearly stopped to find him lying there, deadened. Only the fact that his eyes were open and moving had calmed her down.

As for Syphon - ohh, she hated the villainess already. That evil, lying - _villain!_

"_Do you want him fixed or not?"_ her mind mocked. Of course she had. But Syphon's _solution_ had involved making him have a seizure.

It was entirely reflex to call the other woman a few scathing titles and try to shove her away from Megamind; whatever she'd done, Syphon had been _hurting_ him. And Roxanne wouldn't stand for that.

But of _course _Syphon had to decide that Roxanne needed a good shove too. So, at the prospect of falling off a skyscraper, she'd screamed and grabbed what she could: Syphon's clothes at her chest. The two had begun struggling; Roxanne to keep her grip, Syphon to keep her footing. And now they were falling.

Worst of all, while screaming, she glanced over to find Syphon looked careless. She was falling just as fast as Roxanne, with death imminent, and she couldn't even _flinch?_

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Roxanne gasped out, shock battling the terror in her.

Syphon cast her a bored look. "This won't kill me, birdie."

_Birdie. _Roxanne growled, anger heating her. "Oh yeah, explain to me _how!_" she shouted back.

Syphon flipped in midair, rolling her eyes. "No fall can harm me."

Wait. Meaning she could land on her feet and be _fine?_ Even now? They must be at terminal velocity!

Roxanne cast her eyes to the sky - oh, it was nighttime now, the sun fully set - but didn't see a glimpse of Megamind or brain bots or rocketbikes. Biting her lip, she tried not to look down as she threw her weight and collided with Syphon, gripping her tightly.

"What the -" Syphon gasped.

Good. A reaction. _Finally._ "You can take any landing and not die? I wonder if that works out when there's another person on your back."

Syphon's wide-eyed shock told her everything she needed to know.

"Will the fall kill you now?" she taunted.

Syphon hissed, then spun. "Release me!"

"I don't _think_ so! If I'm going to die, so are you!"

"ARGH!"

"Ground's coming up fast," Roxanne hinted, able to see it from her angle. She had to swallow at how rapidly it approached. "Better make your decision!" Her voice, though forceful, wavered.

With a clear sound of hatred, Syphon seized her, hugging her to her chest. Then she went about a series of twists, throwing her weight. In the midst of the spinning, Roxanne spotted - what she _thought_ was Megamind on a rocketbike, diving towards them.

Syphon neared the building, then planted her feet and shoved off hard with a grunt. Their fall speed broke, and then they were shooting out. Roxanne watched with increasing horror. Syphon's back was arched, head far back, watching the ground approach in a slow backflip. But from Roxanne's point of view, they were _still_ dead.

Then, when they were so close Roxanne was holding her breath, Syphon flipped around and around, twisting, until with a _thud_, her arms clenched painfully and all the rushing. . .stopped.

Roxanne stared in complete stun. Police were all around them, guns trained on Syphon, ordering her to _let the hostage go_ in halting, stunned speech. Syphon still held Roxanne to her, half-crouched on her toes. Her disdainful expression said everything as she glared down at Roxanne, then casually dropped her to the side.

"Ow!" she hissed.

Syphon threw her an unconcerned glare. An oxymoron in the flesh. She stood to her full height, pride in every inch of her stance. Her thin stilettos hadn't even snapped off!

"_Roxanne!_"

Her chin shot up, catching sight of Megamind. He was close. Relief made her sag. He was all right - and so was _she._ Though she'd forced Syphon into saving her, she felt the need to thank the other woman. Surely a woman like her, who'd gone the extra distance and made sure Roxanne hadn't even been _hurt_ in the fall, wasn't all bad? Villainess or not, she'd still helped Roxanne.

"Megamind!" Roxanne called back, unwilling to take her eyes from Syphon for long.

And there she stood, stoic, watching as officers approached her with tentative steps. A few were brandishing handcuffs, the rest still aiming with firearms. Syphon still looked bored, as if this had happened dozens of times before and knew the dance.

Roxanne jumped to her feet when Megamind landed, her breath catching when his attempt at dismounting ended in a flop to the pavement, his cape fluttering the way down. She hurried over and helped him up. He winced when she touched him. Which meant he was in _pain._ Which meant whatever Syphon had done had lingering effects.

Roxanne's hatred of the other woman rekindled.

"Hands up!" someone ordered.

Syphon's face was hidden from this angle, but Roxanne could tell what was going on when the policemen backed away. Syphon must be glaring.

And then laughter sounded from the other woman. The sound was so welcome to Roxanne's ears she wanted to thank the villain for the gift. Which was a ridiculous notion to have, she reminded herself. Under her arm, Megamind seemed to slump more, so she tightened her grip.

Syphon was speaking now. "Come now, boys. Are you sure you want to shoot me?" Her tone was suggestive, making Roxanne narrow her eyes. No _way_ was she manipulating the police force like this. "Wouldn't you rather just have a chat with me? I could sing for you," she suggested.

Tension shot through Roxanne at the phrase. _Sing,_ as she'd done for Megamind? She could imagine everyone present lying on the ground, too weak to move, while Syphon casually walked away.

"Don't listen to her!" Roxanne snapped. "If you have ear plugs, use them! Don't let your guard down!"

Megamind mumbled something she couldn't understand, but it sounded urgent. He turned his head enough to give her an anguished yet determined look. Slowly, he mouthed _dee-hy-dray-shun._

His gun? Without hesitating, she palmed the gun and held it ready, though she almost dropped him when she maneuvered to seize it.

Syphon tossed her an annoyed look, then settled her gaze on Megamind. She smirked at Roxanne, her expression saying _look what I did._

Roxanne grit her teeth, returning the look with a scowl.

Then Syphon spun around and approached the pair. And though Roxanne aimed the gun - left-handed - at her, Syphon paid no heed. She stopped a few feet apart and planted her clawed hands on her hips. Her eyes went between the duo, face to face, before hardening her gaze on Megamind.

"I'm surprised at you," she admitted, sounding angry at that. "I expected you to have. . .mesmerized this birdie. But she really _is_ willing. I wonder how that happened?"

Roxanne hissed, shocking herself. She snapped, "I'm not a _birdie!_ Now what is this about being willing? Why do you keep saying that?"

Syphon bared her teeth as though the memory that surfaced was unpleasant. She met Roxanne's gaze. "Humans confound me. Look at you," she added, gesturing Roxanne. "You're hardly an impressive sort. I can see your fear, your uncertainty. You know you couldn't beat me in any kind of battle. Yet there you stand, hands steady, ready to take me on anyway. That kind of determination. . ."

Her tone faded to wistful, eyes darkening as if looking somewhere far away, somewhere serene. Her eyes refocused on Megamind with a scowl. "That must be why you like her so much, isn't it? That strength in her stance. The willingness to go in spite of sure failure." _Just like you._ The words were unsaid, but audible nonetheless.

"I won't fail," Roxanne growled, training the gun on her again. _Left-handed_, her mind repeated, but she shoved the thought away. She only needed to hit her _once._ She squeezed the trigger.

Syphon twisted around and the blast missed, striking a police car. It shimmered green before shrinking into a cube. Then, as Roxanne aimed for another shot, Syphon darted forward. Though a second blast got off, Syphon dodged again, swiping the gun from her hand. As she hissed in pain, Megamind struggled to right himself, and Syphon grabbed Roxanne by the neck. She pulled her fist back.

Those plated metal knuckles made Roxanne pale, eyes widening. She had no time to tense before that fist collided with her face, throwing her back. Megamind collapsed and Roxanne yelped. Her face felt as though it'd been torn apart.

Syphon was on her again before she could even catch her breath for a pained scream. She was lifted by her shirt, until she met Syphon's cold yellow gaze.

But though she flinched, expecting another hit, Syphon's hand didn't raise.

Instead, she said, "I like you, birdie. Taking the initiative like you did, making me choose to save us both rather than just myself. And by the way, with you on my back, I _still_ wouldn't have died. But shooting at me is something I _can't_ forgive."

"What are you going to do?" Roxanne taunted from behind grit teeth. "Hurt me like you hurt him?" she said with a jerk of her head towards where Megamind was floundering for his gun. _Reach it, reach it!_ she urged.

"Oh no, little birdie. Hurting you would only mildly upset him." At her words, Roxanne's eyes widened. She wanted to hurt _Megamind?_ "You're tough like that. No, I do believe I'll knock you out cold. How would you enjoy being in a coma?" She smirked, a cruel twist of her lips.

Roxanne's mind seized on her words, yet couldn't comprehend them. Her blood seemed to freeze. This villain. . .Syphon would kill her. Very few supervillains were actually willing to do so. All Megamind had ever done was threaten her and knock her out with sprays - sprays that never even had an aftereffect. The few villains that _had _popped up since then only ever used her as bait. But Syphon. . .

_Distract her. Buy time._ With a furtive glance over Megamind - _he got it!_ - she bit out, "Oh yeah? Well, if I'm going to be _out cold_ during your murderous rampage, maybe you could answer a question first. One I'm sure everyone here wants to know." Which reminded her - why weren't the police shooting?

A glance at them divulged the answer. There were all smiling at Syphon, eyes glazed, as if love-stricken. Even the _women._

Syphon quirked a brow in question.

_Perfect!_ Roxanne knew villains, all right. How they loved to gloat.

"Why do you call yourself _Syphon_ when your power is your voice?"

"My voice is only _one_ power, birdie," Syphon cooed. Oh, but her words were lulling. Roxanne relaxed despite herself. "My big power is - wait for it - the ability to _siphon_ the power of others. From things like energy to memories to super powers to Megamind's intellect," she finished with an inclination of her head in his direction.

Roxanne took the motion as an excuse to glance at him, seeing he was back on his feet, gun in his limp arm, glaring at Syphon. _You can do this!_

"His _intellect?_" Roxanne repeated through grit teeth. "You siphoned his brain?" she yelled. _Indignant_ wasn't strong enough a word to describe the fury coursing through her.

Syphon merely smirked in answer. "And. . .memories. Things like how he felt that day you left him in the rain. Cold-hearted of you, birdie, I must say."

A wince marred Roxanne's resolve. She regretted hurting him like that - but in her defense, he'd hurt her too. At the time, she was doing nothing more than returning the favor.

All at once, Syphon glimmered green and then shrunk into a cube. Roxanne was dropped gracelessly on her backside. Her eyes sought out Megamind first thing - he was wobbling, but though he was in obvious pain and tired, his expression was of triumph.

She hurried over to help him stay upright, and the way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat. It was a consuming look, with not a little relief tied in. He must have been really worried about her. Well, in truth, so had she. But she'd been more afraid of what Syphon's powers had done to him.

She hadn't had enough time to question Syphon more thoroughly. Would her _siphoning_ come back with time? Would Megamind recover? What about the stunned policemen; would _they_ recover?

"Grab the cube," Megamind forced out, his voice rough.

She gave a nod and darted over to snatch it up, stuffing it in her pocket. Turning back around, she was about to suggest heading to the police station, but the words died when she saw he was back on his knees, head bowed.

"Oh, that - villain!" she hissed, crouching before him. She lifted his chin. "How do you feel?"

He shook his head. "Terrible. But. . .in a _bad_ way."

She didn't bother pointing out the double negative. She just stroked her thumb along his jaw. "Okay. Let's get you back to the secret lair." She helped him up, though he groaned the whole way. Lifting up his arm so she could talk into the watch, she said, "Minion, we need you."

Minion had arrived by the time she got Megamind back on his rocketbike. To Minion, she said, "Take him back home. I'll be there as soon as I get _Syphon_," she hissed the name, "to the prison."

"Who?" Minion checked.

Roxanne pulled the cube from her pocket.

"Oohhhhh."

"Drop it!"

They all glanced over at an officer - who seemed to be over his lovesickness, yet he was aiming his gun at Roxanne. Her heart sped up in fear, though she still managed to say, "What the. . ."

"Don't aim that at Roxanne!" Minion snapped. "Do you have _any_ idea -"

A gunshot sounded. They all flinched reflexively, causing Roxanne to drop the cube. As she stumbled to dart behind Minion - and his entirely metal body - she saw the cube skittering. Another policeman seemed to snap out of it, sprinting for it.

At once, she felt relief. An officer was going to grab the Syphon-cube and -

Dread settled in when she saw him pull out a bottle of water.

"No," she gasped. No _way._ Syphon's weird voice powers extended this far? To where the police would do anything to get her back? Even to undo the dehydration, though it had taken so much work to catch her?

As the water poured, the answer became clear. They _knew_ what it meant to pour water on any of the dehydration cubes - one of them had already rehydrated the police car.

Syphon was reformed in a split second, and she glanced around in stun. Which made sense; those dehydrated had no memory of the time they spent as a cube. Other than a slight dizziness, only the awareness that everything had changed would tip them off.

Syphon spun, spotted them, and glared. Then she stepped back, and the officer who'd hydrated her made a kind of joyful squeal at her nearness, reaching out to hug her. She spared him no glance as she said, "Round one goes to you, Megamind. Let us see where round two takes us. Until next time?"

"Ohh, no," Roxanne bit out. "You're not going anywh -" Her words cut off on a gasp when a bullet whizzed by her, rebounding off Minion's shoulder. She clutched in closer to him.

"Syphon!" Megamind shouted. "Release these people!"

"Now _why_ would I want to do that?" she cooed, reaching back to caress her claws along the man's face. His eyes fluttered in pleasure from that simple contact. "I _like_ my toys."

"You will release them," Megamind bit out.

A cold shiver went through Roxanne, and she glanced back at him. He wasn't moving - hadn't reached for his gun. With everything Syphon had done to him, he must need rest more than he'd been letting on. With a stern look, she shook her head. He caught the motion, glancing back in disbelief.

She made an 'm' with her fingers over her chest, signaling she'd contact Metro Man. Though he still refused to take up being a hero again, he was helpful in other ways, including his willingness to use his super speed to dart to other locations on Earth, searching out information. She would visit him, ask him to look into Syphon, maybe follow her and find out what she was up to.

Megamind's eyes narrowed. He was always just a tad jealous when she sought out the ex-hero, even though there'd never been anything romantic between them, and there never would.

"Come now, Megamind," Syphon continued in that coo. Roxanne swayed. "You know how the game is played. This was a teaser of the true battle to come. By then, all of the people in this city will be mine. And rest assured that you won't escape either. You and your little birdie have been immune to my voice so far, but it won't last forever. Ciao!"

And with that, she spun, the officers flanking her, guns poised, as she strode away. Her gait took her down the center of the street as if she had nothing at all to fear from the vehicles still in motion. With the procession following at her heels, maybe she didn't.

Roxanne met eyes with Megamind, then turned her attention to Minion - who looked stunned, and a little happy.

"Minion!" she snapped, hitting the glass.

"Wha? What? Who?" He shook himself. "What just happened?"

She spared another glance to Megamind, who said, "We'll be needing sound dampeners to drown out her voice. Minion, you'll have to help me back to the fortress. Roxanne, don't be long. She doesn't like you, which means she'll be dangerous. I want you with me."

_For your own protection,_ she finished for him.

"Brain bots!" she called as Minion jumped on the rocketbike and took off with Megamind. When seven bots appeared, she ordered them to retrieve her rocketbike from the top of the tower. As soon as it was on the ground with her, she said, "Follow me."

Metro Man would need the fair warning, if nothing else. If Syphon could steal powers - and her speech hinted that she often _did_ - then he would need to know. He might be a target of Syphon just as much as Megamind and herself were.

That is, if Syphon ever found out about him.

She recalled Syphon's words about her sapping ability: _"From things like energy to memories to super powers to Megamind's intellect,"_ she'd said.

Roxanne's mind clung to that one word, _memories._ Syphon had already mentioned the night Roxanne dumped Megamind, and that'd been four months ago.

A daunting thought. What else could she know?

The questions kept running through Roxanne's mind as she piloted the rocketbike above the buildings and across the lake to the small red schoolhouse. She supposed she could've just texted Metro - er, Music Man, but long conversations and exchanges were best done in person. Cell phones could be traced, calls hacked, texts read.

And there was a lot to retell. Hopefully he was there.


	3. Part III

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

_Syphon_

_Part III_

* * *

"Unbelievable!" Syphon cried, pacing through her lair. "A _hero?_ He's a _hero?_" With a yell of fury, she grabbed the thing nearest her - an open radio she'd been tinkering with - and threw it across the room. It tumbled, dented, and eventually broke into several pieces, screws scattering.

"He became a hero and I missed it!" she screamed. "I can't believe this! Years he spent as a villain - a _super_ villain -" she kicked a table, toppling it "- and now he's just turned around? That - that - blue-skinned _freak!_" She threw a baseball-sized hunk of tangled wires, watched as it rebounded down the hall and out of sight. Something shattered. _My mirror, probably._

For a moment she stood there, still, seething hard. Her eyes darted around her lair for something else to destroy. Her anger wasn't relieved yet.

Paper pictures (mostly printed) lined the walls and a few hung from strings, all of Megamind. She had news articles of his last decade of battles taped or pinned over every spare inch. These papers covered most of the rusted metal that made up the walls of her lair - an abandoned sugar mill, which she'd adapted to be her dark, evil home. Cliché, of course, but she had to start _somewhere._

And lord knows she was just starting out. She'd barely been outright evil for two months, stealing, terrorizing, harming, destroying. She'd been training herself to be bad, all so she could become a worthy partner for Megamind.

Not that he cared. _That non-evil blasted. . .hero!_

Her fists clenched. _Fine._ She wasn't changing for him again. He wants to be a good guy, then she'd just have to punish him as any bad guy would do. Maybe if she kept being bad, she might be able to convince him to come back. . ?

She pushed the thought away. _No plans,_ she'd promised herself in the past. The future was too fluid to plan. She reminded herself of this now. No plans. Or at least, no _big_ ones. She'd need _some_ measure of a plan to lure Megamind out. He'd be expecting a trap, of course, so she'd plant two. Once he'd sprung one, his guard would go down.

She knew how he thought, knew his reactions. Knew he'd be planning his own traps, even the type that could spring on _her_ turf.

And what was with that _Roxanne?_ Roxanne Ritchi? The reporter? The two of them were a _couple?_ Unbelievable!

Not that she couldn't believe Megamind liked her - no, the way he kept kidnapping her without ever putting her life in danger said enough. From the very first kidnapping on, he'd been impressed with her, which of course led to his eventual discovery of _feelings._

Jealousy seared her. Lucky Roxanne, getting him all to herself. It was too bad for _her_ that Syphon's reactions weren't nice anymore. Jealousy used to make her depressed, because anything she was jealous of was something she could never have.

Not anymore. Now the jealousy urged her to destroy what she wanted and its possessor. If she couldn't have it, no one would. And the 'owner' would possess nothing ever again.

Roxanne and Megamind were to die.

The thought caused a spear of pain to pierce her, but she shoved it away. Reason fled her mind. He'd rejected her, in turn rejecting every sacrifice she'd made for him. And so he would die.

She didn't take rejection nicely.

She meant it when she told him her claws would tear through his tendons. She'd done so before, on helpless citizens in a few different cities, gauging their reactions and modifying the claws accordingly. As they were now, people absolutely lost their minds when she bared her claws at them, and they sliced through clothes, skin and muscle with little drag.

With these bad boys, she could tear out a heart. In fact, the idea was pleasant to her. Maybe she'd do that to Roxanne - before Megamind's eyes. Damage the girl he loved irreparably, letting her bleed to death as he watched. Then he'd be next.

The violent, bloody thoughts calmed her rage, coaxing a smile. This just might work out yet. Just because she couldn't have Megamind didn't mean she couldn't still wreak havoc.

Decided, she set out to straightening up, taking off the claws and setting them aside. Next came her boots, slipping her feet into comfortable sneakers. The same pair she'd worn for the past four years, well broken-in.

But as she cleaned up, her ire grew again. She'd spent years saving up money for an undecided future, knowing only it'd be something big, and then she'd spent it all on this outfit and the building. She had nothing left now. Once again, she was a pauper.

Luckily, a portion of the memories she'd siphoned were still with her. And when a specific image came to mind, it had her scrambling for a piece of paper to write the information down on. For once the memories faded, she wouldn't remember anything she'd gotten from Megamind, so she had to take notes while she could. The face in her mind was familiar, both from her point of view and his. But the building she was looking at - some sort of dilapidated school building, it looked like - wasn't the least bit familiar.

That didn't stop her from discovering the address. After writing it down, she frowned at it, confused. But when she paired the face in her mind to the address, she drew the connection.

Metro Man? _Alive?_

She ran to her newspaper-clipping wall, scrolling through them. There - Metro Man's face, pictured alongside Megamind's. So that _was_ him. The face in her mind was more scraggly, with a thick beard and unruly hair. But there was no mistaking the eyes she compared, or the half-winking grin.

Yet why was her mind telling her he'd. . ._died?_ Thumbing through the recent memories was getting harder with each moment, but she kept trying, while skimming over the paper clippings. Somewhere, somewhere. . .there _had_ to be. . .

She froze on one. _Megamind Succeeds! Metro Man Dead!_ He'd won?

No. He hadn't. The memories fit together more, and she began furiously writing down what she could. Metro Man was alive - he'd _faked_ his death. Why? Something about. . .being tired? He'd looked tired when retelling the story. Tired of being a hero?

Is that why Megamind had switched sides? Without Metro Man to be the hero, Megamind had fallen into the role? That sounded only. . .a little plausible. He'd never looked sad with his part as the villain before, often played it flawlessly. So why the change. . ?

Well, now that she knew where Metro Man was - a twinge of awareness told her she'd just used the wrong name for him - she could just track him down and ask.

She'd never loved her siphon powers more than she did now, allowing a cruel smile. She had a skip in her step when she put on her claws and boots again, and hopped a ride with a love-struck taxi driver. The rest of the charmed humans she'd had under her control she'd released. Only a particular note of her vocal cords could do it, one she'd had to practice long and hard to discover, and she wasn't planning on telling anyone.

By the time she'd reached the tiny red building, all of the memories she'd taken had faded away, leaving her only with her impressions. Red school house, Metro Man within, almost unrecognizable. The interior had been white, she was sure, but upon exiting the taxi, the house didn't look familiar anymore. She knew it was the place, but it brought up no memories.

Which, admittedly, was a big problem for her. She doubted her conclusions more than anyone else in the world, once her borrowed memories faded. Was she _sure_ this was the place? Was she _positive_ Metro Man would be inside? Could these inclinations be trusted?

She went into the building with a single comforting thought: what could she lose? Potentially, she could gain a powerful source to leech off of. That alone was worth the risk of disappointment.

As she explored, she discovered a hidden door within that led down, down, then along a long, dark hallway. Her heart rate kicked up with excitement, already hungry for what was to come. She marveled at the stupidity of an unlocked door for one who was supposed to be dead, then entered as silently as she could (not that she thought she could hide from someone with super hearing).

As she inched around the room, glancing around, she admitted that this _must_ be Metro Man's hidden lair. All the mementoes and etched M's on everything that could possibly be etched into proved it without a doubt.

Eventually, finding no hint of life within, she flopped onto the couch to wait. He'd be back eventually, she told herself, and he'd sooner question her than run and hide. And just to increase his initial confusion, she got up to get herself a drink. After all, she knew how people ticked. She knew even the grandest of (fallen) superheroes would grow too curious to be cautious if she made herself at home in their solitary fortresses.

Showing no hint of malicious intent would help, too, she told herself. And who knows? Her voice might charm even him. That was a tantalizing thought. Forever her little energizer bunny, feeding her his amazing powers with a willing grin - regardless of the fact that he'd still be an unwilling puppet.

Once freed, they were always like that - hateful of her, spiteful, no matter if she treated them kindly or not.

She scowled at the memory that came up, biting into the straw in her long island iced tea. The first time she'd spoken around others, at the age of six, it'd been to a classroom. At first, everyone had been welcoming of her, enchanted by the solitary "hello" she'd uttered. She'd thought they were just being kind.

Every time she murmured another word, they'd liked her more, smiled more. And then she'd been touched by a boy, who'd reached out to touch her cheek, and he'd yelled out in agony. The spell was broken for him, and everyone else cowered back. She, too, had been rocked, not understanding what had just happened.

Several switched schools later, and she'd gained knowledge of herself. Her voice lured others in, while her skin sucked out their very lives, complete with memories. So she'd begun dressing herself head-to-toe in clothes, never speaking, never touching. Anytime she unwittingly charmed someone, she refused to speak again for weeks at a time, until her voice grew so unused it seemed to fail working altogether.

And so many times during the next few years, she would try again and again to make friends, thinking that _this_ time, her voice wouldn't make them like her; _this_ time, her touch wouldn't hurt them.

Hope really was the worst emotion one could feel. One broken heart after another in her life, and she'd yet to realize this? She never should have hoped to become friends - or more - with Megamind. Ridiculous. She should have known it would all fall apart again. It was her destiny.

Though. . .maybe not. She tilted her head as she thought back.

For as many years as she fought her innate abilities, she'd also tried to train them. To roughen her voice, to deaden her touch. The touching part seemed to be put back into her control, if only slightly. She remembered falling from that tower, remembered Roxanne Ritchi grabbing onto her. And when she'd held the other woman, Roxanne's cheek had been on her bared shoulder. Yet she hadn't siphoned anything; had, in fact, been instinctively trying to control it.

It had. . .worked?

Curious. She rose her brows with pride. She'd kept her skin from harming the woman, kept any draining from occurring. Instinctively. If only she could control that all the time. . .if only she could've been able to ten years ago. . .

If only.

She snorted. _If only_ was about as useless as _I hope_. Ridiculous. Wishing for the future or the past; both were wastes of time.

Her awareness pricked up then, and she glanced up to see she wasn't alone anymore. There stood a tall man, eying her carefully, his countenance hidden behind a thick beard, long trench coat and down-pointed hat. A usual suspect for a lineup, she mused, but otherwise hidden from wandering gazes.

She let the straw slip from her lips, waiting for him to speak first, aware that her position was definitely of one who owned the place. Her ankles were crossed on the table in front of her, one arm braced over the back of the couch, sitting askew on the furniture with an alcoholic beverage in her hand.

"Syphon?" he checked.

Wow. Her eyes widened. She may have a charming voice, but so did he. She feared she liked him already.

Still, she replied in the same suspicious tone, "Metro Man?"

A moment passed before he shook his head.

She made a show of glancing around the room, then looking back to him with a raised brow. ". . .No?" she prodded. "Oh. . .yes. You changed your name, did you not?" She purposefully made her voice sweet, watching for his reactions.

He swayed on his feet. Oh yes, he was affected. She bit back a grin.

"Music Man," he corrected, his voice a tad more gruff now, his eyes narrowed. "Now get out of here. You're not welcome."

Sounded like he _really_ didn't want to bring attention to himself. After all, there'd be a show if he _forced_ her out. Fine; she could roll with that. She slid her feet off the table, setting her glass down; he backed up with a clearly wary gaze. As she got to her feet, she said, "As you wish. I wouldn't want to impose upon you. After all," she strode closer to the door, and thus, closer to him, "I can see you have your hands full with your new. . .calling."

More and more he seemed to fall under her spell, but he was making a hell of a fight. Most people were under by now. With him, she felt both annoyance and grudging respect. With Megamind, she'd felt nothing but awe. She'd thought his advanced brain had saved him from her voice, but when Roxanne, too, remained immune, she'd realized the truth. Love had shielded them both; devotion had given them focus.

So how was Metro Man - scratch that; Music Man - still giving her _get-the-hell-out_ looks?

Lucky for her, he rose to the challenge her words offered. "I don't regret my choices," he bit out, voice steady when the rest of him was anything but. "Megamind is a fine hero."

"Oh, indeed, I agree," she said, partially just to weave her vocal magic more. "But look at you. You may not want to be a hero anymore, but you can't just let your powers go unused, can you? I mean, how would you use x-ray vision in concerts? Or flight? Or your massive strength?" This last she said in a purr, coming closer as he wobbled to the side, shaking himself. He collapsed into a chair.

Struggling to answer now, he bit out, "I'll make it work. You - out."

She had to admire him. All that strength weakened, and yet he was still using the remains of it to get her away. He knew the devastating effects of her voice; she was sure of it. Someone had tipped him off. It couldn't have been Megamind - he was seconds from passing out when she'd left. So it must have been Roxanne.

Which meant Roxanne, too, knew Metro Man was alive. She wondered if she could use that. . .

"But you don't want your powers anymore, do you?" Syphon went on, practically humming the words. _No one_ could sing the way she could. "You consider them a burden. _I_ don't. So who told you about me? The birdie, Roxanne?" She stepped closer to him as she spoke, until she braced her hands on the back of the chair he sat in, leaning over him.

The way his eyes sparked with recognition told her she was right, but he didn't seem to have enough will to fight her off, even with words, anymore. He grit his teeth, glaring.

All that strength, for naught. She felt her face split in a dark grin.

"Did she tell you," she continued, "about my powers? I could take them from you, all that strength and flight and everything. It wouldn't be permanent, but it would last for a while. Would you like that, Music Man?" she taunted, leaning closer, trying to read his eyes. He hadn't given in yet. "Would you like to be normal for a bit? Two or three days, even?"

His willpower was amazing, she realized, as even her most luscious of purrs wasn't crushing him. His fingers bit into the arms of the chair, but still he resisted. Impressive.

"I could even test my limits with you. Taking all of your power would be deadly, I'm sure," she went on, thoughtful. "Probably to me, too, so we won't be going that far. Not that I would want to kill you anyway. Oh no, you're like my own personal gold mine. Come on, now. Give in," she urged, waiting for that glaze to coat his eyes, that glaze she was so used to seeing. "You'll feel happy to give me whatever I want, I promise. And I'll keep coming back to sap your powers, leave you normal. It's a win-win."

"_For. . .you. . ._" he ground out, anger threading his gaze.

She reared back, unsure if she should be infuriated or excited. No one had ever fought her so hard before; she hadn't spoken this much to even Megamind. How was he still fighting?

Unbidden, she began to laugh, backing away from him. She clapped just once, excitement threading through her. She _wanted_ his powers now, more than she ever had before. And since he couldn't physically fight her off, she could easily take them. But somehow, it seemed like a cheating way to do it.

Grinning again, she said, "Oh, you're great fun! I'll give you a few days to recover, I promise, before I come back here. And when I do, I'll keep from speaking. I want to take your powers from you without all this weakening charm preventing you from really fighting."

Her laughter always won over people before; Music Man was still fighting. She was liking this more and more. . . With another heartfelt chuckle at his wide-eyed, shocked gaze, she spun and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

What fun it was going to be when she got back. In the meantime. . .

She dug up an address back in her lair, an address she'd pulled out of. . .someone's. . .head. Within this building, she knew there was always at least one supervillain hiding out.

All she needed was one.


	4. Part IV

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

_Syphon_

_Part IV_

* * *

It took almost half a day for Megamind to shake of Syphon's effects. Whatever her touch had done had worn off quickly, but the damage done by her voice had been far more disastrous. Tests via electronics he'd constructed checked him again and again, finding no permanent damage. She'd practically paralyzed him, and yet he was recovering without trouble.

. . .Physically.

During the four months he'd been the city's hero, no supervillains had shown up. One or two had threatened the city, but those were empty threats, until Syphon had appeared. And when word spread of what she'd been able to do to him, there would be no stopping the attacks on the city.

Which is why he set to work on defenses so quickly. Within a day he had new plans sketched out for a workable force field generator, designed to make a dome around the city once about three hundred had been set up. It would prevent entrance or exits - which means that if he saw a supervillain threat from outside and activated it, none would be able to get inside to do harm.

That would give him at least enough time to work out how to deal with the aforementioned supervillain.

On the flip side, it would also contain any threat already in the city. It wouldn't be as easy to put together a plan on that kind of timetable, but it would keep the devastation from spreading.

Once she'd warned-slash-asked for help from Music Man, Roxanne had returned to the lair and thus far only left to give the latest report. Her report included a warning to immediately use ear plugs should Syphon be spotted.

Minion, who'd also been affected by her voice, was working up sketches for a sound dampener, something to battle her voice. Battling her touch was easier; just be shielded. But one thing at a time, he told himself. Syphon had promised to return, but who knew when that would be?

For now, both he and Minion had a job to do, and Roxanne - while restless - was keeping calm and helping in whatever way she could. Which, mainly, was brainstorming. She had a very quick mind, which he admittedly admired. She put it to work trying to figure out Syphon, and given everything Megamind had told her (which was every detail, every word; his faultless memory provided all), she'd come to a conclusion.

"It's more than just wanting to be a supervillain pal," Roxanne had explained. "She must have been obsessed with you."

"Obsessed?" he'd echoed, shocked. No one had ever shown him real positive feedback before, besides the criminals who'd raised him, and Roxanne - and recently, the public.

"Enamored, even. It sounds like she thought she was in love with you," Roxanne clarified.

That one left him stunned, and even Minion gasped in shock. For a moment, all he could remember was his conclusion that she'd tried to seduce him on that tower. A part of him (against his will) began wondering what life would've been like, had he met her before Metro Man's faked death. If he'd accepted her bid to be a partner.

Then Roxanne's pinched expression hit home, and he started to laugh.

"What?" she'd demanded, angry. "What's so funny?"

"You're _jee-lus_," he'd snickered, pointing at her. He couldn't help it; she was being possessive of him. Which, he admitted, felt damn nice.

She'd frowned, then all but tackled him, she threw herself at him so hard. "That _girl_ may have thought she loved you, but _I_ know what it really feels like," she'd bit out, refusing to look in his eyes but also refusing to let go. "Besides, of course I'd be jealous. You're one of a kind, and you're mine."

That last part was murmured, but her years of practice behind a camera made her words come out crystal clear despite it. With a warming bloom going through him, he'd hugged her close, holding tight. It felt good to be wanted, to be accepted, appreciated. . .and especially _loved._

Which was precisely why the next project awaiting his attention was another dehydration gun, one smaller and easier for Roxanne to handle, but hopefully just as powerful. Then maybe a few more trinkets. . .a portable deflector shield of some sort. . .yes, that sounded good. . .

The following morning, as they were all busy working, Roxanne's cell beeped as a text arrived. She put aside the white pen and ruler she'd been using (Megamind discovered she was very handy with blueprints and had put her to work reconciling measurements) and flipped open her phone.

He only spared her a glance before getting back to work.

Until he heard her sharp inhalation.

"What is it?" he demanded at once, watching her as she hurriedly texted back.

"Music Man. Said Syphon paid him a visit," she ground out.

Jealousy seared him then - against his will, always against his will - at the thought that his Roxanne was texting his once-rival. _They were never a couple,_ he reminded himself as he bit his lip on a retort. _He's not her type, she's with you._

"Did she do any damage?" he asked now.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just asked." She glanced up, meeting his gaze with concern.

In a fraction of a second, Megamind relaxed. His mind had already deduced the chances of Music Man falling prey to Syphon, and determined that nothing had happened - or nothing severe, at least. If she'd tried to sap his powers, she'd have a hard time of it; Music Man had super speed and could fly. Syphon had no such capabilities. If she _had_ sapped his powers, she wouldn't have let go as quickly as she'd released Megamind, which would inevitably result in Music Man being too weak to even text.

Logic achieved.

"He's fine," Megamind said, going back to work.

He felt Roxanne staring at him in disbelief before she replied, "How can you say that?"

Oh, right. She was very smart, and quick and sharp and a genius in her own right, but her mind still didn't move as quick as his did.

He answered, "If Syphon got a hold of him, he wouldn't be able to text."

After a moment, he heard her murmur something to herself. Then her phone beeped again and she flipped it open. "You're right," she informed him (and he smirked). "He says she spoke to him, said she'd be back in a few days, and left."

He didn't like that last part.

"So who do you suppose is going to be visited by her first?" Minion wondered aloud, knowing where his thoughts would lead. "You, or him?"

Within a split second, he had his answer. "Him. Before she comes after me, she's going to want his powers."

That was when he heard Roxanne begin texting again, likely to warn Music Man of just that. He told himself he wasn't jealous. Not the least bit. Why would he be, when all she was doing was warning his ex-rival of impending doom? _Ha-ha. _Texting was impersonal anyway.

And best of all, she was in _his_ lair, not Music Man's. More than anything else, that thought calmed him down.

Minion went to walk by with an armful of rolled-up discarded blueprints, but paused to check Megamind's progress. He said, "Uh, sir?"

"Hmm?" was Megamind's noncommittal response.

". . .Why are you sketching little hearts?"

His blood seemed to freeze. He leaned back to view the blue paper from a distance, shocked. Then he scowled. The paper wasn't at all a sketch of _anything_ mechanical or remotely scientific. Oh, a few lines were measured out with arrows and numbers declaring how long they were and at what angles.

But the rest of the paper was a mess of squiggly lines, most of them mimicking the steps of turning Syphon into a cube, zapping Metro Man/Music Man (he was shown in both outfits) with various rays, and tiny doodled hearts that danced around Roxanne's smiling face.

With a heavy sigh at a wasted sheet of paper, he rolled it up and handed it back to Minion to throw out with the others.

Getting back to work (and focusing harder than before), he missed when Roxanne stopped Minion to look at the discarded blueprint.

They continued working for several more hours, a routine made up between the three of them and the brain bots. Megamind sketched out force field generators, Minion sketched out sound dampeners, Roxanne checked over both sets of blueprints as she received them for errors, and the brain bots scouted out to retrieve and organize the necessary items to build them. It was a comfortable silence, if an uncomfortable timetable to be working under.

And then Roxanne broke the silence.

"How are you planning on fighting her?"

Asking the very same question that'd been plaguing him. That was his Roxanne.

". . .I don't know," he admitted. Dealing with her wasn't going to be easy. He couldn't fool her into leaving the way he'd done to Tighten. He couldn't dehydrate her because, like had happened before, one of her thralls would just rehydrate her. It would only make her angry.

He would have to find a way to keep her at a distance, as well as a way to block out her voice - both the charming side and the glass-shattering side. That wouldn't be easy, either. In fact, that seemed to be the main problem. One scream from her had shaken loose some of the wiring in his rocketbike, even put cracks in the metal.

In short, her voice was a lot more powerful than he'd assumed. Worse yet, he knew she hadn't unleashed a very intense scream, either. The full effect of her strongest scream might just shatter metal, too. Which meant not even his most advanced robot would be able to withstand it.

He was beginning to compare her voice to a punch from Metro Man.

And her touch was just as debilitating as her voice, only it worked quicker and had harsher effects on whoever she was touching. That pain he'd felt was something he wished he'd never have to experience again. And then to hear how she'd taken some of his memories - but which ones? The earliest, going back? Was it random? Did she only pick up on the things he was thinking about?

He remembered, just for a moment after she'd let go, that he'd been uncomprehending of what Roxanne had yelled at the woman. In hindsight, the words were, _"Let him go, you harpy! I swear I'll feed you to-"_ That was when she'd screamed.

But at the time, the words had escaped him. He realized now that she'd managed to sap even his understanding of the English language, though that had come flooding back almost immediately once she'd released him.

"It won't be easy," he said now. "If she gets Music Man's powers. . ."

". . .You won't be able to take them back like you did to Hal," Roxanne finished.

"Look, let's not worry about this now," Minion added helpfully. "We all have work to do. . ."

"And at least a few days before we have to start worrying?" Roxanne quipped. "I think _worrying_ is exactly what we have to be doing. Look, I'll text Music Man again, tell him to go into hiding. . ." She pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open as she spoke.

"Don't bother," Megamind told her. "She'd only find him again."

She growled. "How would she do that? How did she even find him the _first_ time? She's never even been in the city before!"

"She must have gotten his location from my memories," he answered. He put his pen down to face her. "Remember how she mentioned that? Taking my memories?"

"She took one of you and Music Man?"

"The last time I was there was with you," Megamind reminded her. "The day we learned he was still alive. I haven't been back since. So she took the only memory I have of his lair."

"Which means she either can't control what she learns," Roxanne put together, "or she took four months' worth of your memories."

He gave a nod. "If you tell Music Man to leave, and she discovers him missing, she'll just come find us. And when she does, if we're unprepared. . . She could just go through _our_ memories until she finds him again -"

"Providing he tells us where he's going," she interrupted.

He wished it were so simple. "Do you think she'd really believe we didn't know? You don't know what her touch felt like. How much. . .pain there was." He voice grew softer. "I don't want you to ever feel that."

Minion murmured, "Sir. . ."

Roxanne's gaze fell. But then her face hardened and she looked up. "You're not sending _me_ away," she told him.

Caught before he could even finish the plan. He couldn't help but smile. She knew the way he thought, all right. Getting back on track, he continued, "Worse comes to worst, she'll leave you and I in too much pain to move, and would probably leave Minion as her thrall." As he spoke, a plan began forming in his mind. "She would use whatever she could to wreak havoc on the city, demanding Music Man to return."

"And, eventually, he would," she finished. "With you and I as bait, with the city under her thumb. . ."

"She's more dangerous than Hal was," he added. "Or at least, her potential for destruction is higher. And while Hal was scorned by you, _she_ was scorned by _me,_" he said, remembering the old phrase about women scorned.

Roxanne seemed to remember too, glaring at the table before her. "You're basically telling me that we'd be used as bait to lure Music Man back. . .so it's better to let _him_ be the bait."

_The lesser of two evils. . ._

"That's what I was thinking, yes," he agreed with difficulty. "My hypothesis is that she doesn't want Music Man dead - she'd rather have him as a live battery. The worst she could do is drain him and then use his powers against us. But with luck, it'd take her a while to get used to them. Time we could spend learning to counter her powers."

"Sir," Minion began.

Roxanne cut him off. "You're going to _let_ him be bait to save _our_ skins?" She was getting angry.

Megamind snapped back, "_I_ was going to send you away, somewhere safe, so I could deal with this. _You_ demanded to stay."

"Would that have changed your plan?" she shot back.

"Sir?" Minion tried to cut in again.

"Yes, it would've!" Megamind plowed over him.

"And what would your next brilliant plan entail?" she mocked.

_Ouch._ "Getting Music Man a hologram watch of his own to impersonate Hal - or someone else - then teaming up to fight off Syphon!"

"_Sir!_" Minion snapped.

"What?" both he and Roxanne cried in unison.

Minion swam low in his bowl in a flinch, then pointed. "I think we have a problem."

Megamind followed the point to a monitor. His eyes widened when he saw what was displayed. He'd tapped into the city's security cameras - almost every last one of them - and programmed in a search for Syphon. Now that she'd been spotted, the cameras followed her.

She was strolling down the street, not a care in the world, wearing a heavy trench coat with the collar up. Her pink hair was displayed, her metal claws poking out from under the sleeves.

And she was flanked by a dozen glass-eyed humans, all watching her closely as they ambled along. One among them was dressed. . .differently.

His hair was red and short, spiked straight up and back. His clothes amounted to a t-shirt and jeans, both red and splashed with yellow flames. As he followed her, fire kept dusting off his fingers; the quicker he moved, the stronger the flames appeared.

He was a super. And he was under her power, as love-stricken as the rest surrounding her.

"Oh, no," Roxanne murmured.

Her voice snapped Megamind back to the present. He swung a sharp look on Minion, rising. "Who is that with her?" he asked, heading for the console.

"Um. . .I don't know," Minion answered, scratching his bowl. "No one I've seen before. Someone new?"

"What do you mean, someone new?" Roxanne demanded, coming to stand with Minion - she knew better than to get in Megamind's way when he started with the buttons and switches.

He half-listened as they continued talking, granting them just enough focus that he'd be able to recall everything they said later. The rest of his focus was on Syphon and her thralls.

The cameras panned back, following specifically the duo, recording them. It began taking snaps of the rest of Syphon's thrall's faces, lining them up on one monitor. The computer's drives whirred as it sifted through information, finally coming up with - and displaying - the names of the citizens with her. Then their addresses, dates of birth, occupations, and criminal history, if any.

What he saw made him catch a breath. Syphon was being methodical. Two of the men Megamind recognized from his time in the asylum for the criminally gifted, and the rest had a history there. The fiery guy with her, however, had no known record. His computer couldn't match his face.

And worse, four of the men still wore a very familiar orange jumpsuit with numbers printed on the chest. She and the new guy had sprung them from prison.

Megamind hadn't realized he hadn't included the prison's cameras in the list of ones he'd hijacked until now. And he officially felt stupid. Of _course_ Syphon would go for inmates.

But he was still more concerned about who the red-headed flame boy was. Hastily typing, he ordered the computer to freeze-frame the boy's face, then hacked into all the major computer systems the world over, searching for a match. With his high-tech computer, it could take a few days to go through all the files available - still several times faster than any other computer.

Leaving the computer to its task, he made a quick decision to go out and confront her. He knew she wouldn't attack - she was amassing a following, while learning the streets.

Minion and Roxanne had been talking the entire time he'd been working.

"Someone. . .new," Minion explained. "Look, we could get. . .targeted if this leaks out, but. . . There was a convention. Of. . .supervillains."

". . .Convention," Roxanne echoed.

"Right. They got together twice a year, chatted, some made alliances, others. . .punished failures, that kind of thing. The only thing _we_ ever went for was to keep Metro city as our domain - and Metro Man our target."

She sucked in a breath. "Imagine the press if I'd gotten my hands on that story. . ."

"No!" Megamind snapped without thinking. "Look, I may have always been a kind of. . ._nice_ guy when it came to my evildoings, but a lot of the others. . .weren't. Several of them had killed eavesdroppers, people who got too close or leaked its existence. I'm sure they've heard about my switch from villain to hero by now," he added, something he'd thought about before in length, "and the only reason they haven't attacked _on mess_ -"

"En masse," Minion corrected.

"- was because we haven't breathed a word of it. I consider the lair perfectly secure," he said, catching Roxanne's eye, "but you can't _ever_ breathe a word of it. If they all came here to get _you_. . ." He couldn't even fathom the devastation that would bring, both to her and to himself. He felt he would die if she did, and without a doubt, the other villains would kill her if they heard she knew about them.

_Absolute Secrecy._ That was their motto. So far none of them wanted to tangle with Megamind, who'd (according to all reports) taken out Metro Man and then Tighten, a super he himself had created, by sucking his super powers right out of him.

But that wouldn't last. Eventually he'd have to start hunting, taking out each of the villains one at a time. Lucky for him, his perfect memory recorded a great deal of information on each villain, including powers, weaknesses and habits. He could bait a trap within a trap for every last one of them, render them powerless, and send them to prison for eighty-seven life sentences.

Irony felt _good_ sometimes.

Roxanne was silent, he noticed now. She seemed to have understood his unspoken words, maybe seen the trepidation in his face. She said now, ". . .In which case, I won't be doing any breathing about them." She cocked her head and added, "Just like how I never say anything about _anything_ that goes on in here."

Megamind exhaled a sharp breath, relief suffusing him. "Okay. Stay here," he told them both, heading off.

"You're going to confront her, aren't you?" Roxanne demanded, stepping in his path. "Did you forget what she did to you _last_ time?"

"I never forget _anything_," he shot back, offended. "And she won't attack me." He went to walk around her.

She moved with him, again blocking him. "So now you're also psychic, is that it?"

He might as well have been. With his gift for reading motives and constructing plans in mere seconds, it was as good as seeing the future. "No," he answered. "But I know _bad._ She won't attack, because that's not why she's out. Unless I provoke her - which I won't," he added in a rush when Roxanne opened her mouth, "the most we'll do is talk."

"Talk," she repeated, arching a brow.

"Yes, _talk,_" he agreed, moving around her at last. She let him - which disappointed him a bit, but he pushed it aside.

He admitted to himself that he wasn't immune to Syphon's voice, but somehow, he couldn't be fully swayed the way everyone else seemed to be. He and Roxanne both, he corrected himself. But how could Roxanne remain immune if Syphon was gathering humans left and right, even managing to enslave a super?

He'd originally thought he hadn't been enthralled because of his superior brain. And it may still factor in. Yet now he began viewing things differently. Even Minion had been swayed by her voice. So what did he and Roxanne have that the rest of the city didn't?

_Love?_

A part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Not that he doubted he and Roxanne loved each other; there was no doubt of _that. _But how could a feeling - albeit one he believed was stronger than any other he'd ever felt - possibly have fought off her mystical voice? The only answer he could come up with was that it wasn't love at all; it was his reactions to it.

Having Roxanne around kept him focused on her. . ._most _of the time. So maybe it was the focus that battled Syphon's power. Maybe it was focus her voice _relied_ on. Complete focus of the victim on her voice. If that were so, then would distracting her thralls free them?

It was worth a shot, he supposed.

No getting too close to her this time. He began a list of her abilities, what she could and couldn't do. She could yell and sing and take a seventy-story fall - with a passenger - but she couldn't fly.

. . .And she couldn't see through illusions either.

He called a dozen brain bots to him as he went for his recently-repaired rocketbike, giving orders. A part of him was beginning to view this confrontation as _fun._ Which, he supposed, could go either good or bad in the end.

No matter what, though, he promised himself he was going to ferret out answers from her.


	5. Part V

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

**_Syphon_**

_Part V_

_

* * *

_

What _fun._ Syphon was smiling as her little slaves followed her around, Ember especially. She'd had to charm him more than the others. His _fire_ was strong enough to _burn_ even her if she let her guard down.

She laughed to herself at the terrible puns. Better to get them out now though, she supposed. Megamind would be here soon, of course, and she wanted to be able to chat with better skill when he did. That's where Ember would come in. The boy could use his fire - once it'd surrounded him fully - to fly. And Syphon, having sapped just a tad from him, could hold onto him while he did so and not be burned.

And then she could get her hands on Megamind again.

She'd thought this through, picking Ember because - well, she liked his _spark_ for one, and for two, because of the three villains currently hiding out at that address, he was the only one who could fly. She considered charming the other two just to build up her army, but humans would be so much more useful.

- As _shields_ anyway.

Now when would the blue one show up? She was starting to get irritated.

She received her answer when a booming voice called out, "Syphon! Once again you _dare_ walk in _my_ city?"

A few glances around told her that he hadn't shown himself yet, and all the humans standing around had matching expressions of wonder and confusion, looking left and right for the speaker.

She could have laughed. But, instead, she gave a grin and said, "Oh, I _dare_. I might as well, considering this city will soon be _mine._"

As her words suggested, the humans around began turning their gazes to her, a few already glassy-eyed and heading her way.

"And they will _love_ being mine," she added, offering a smile down at a young boy who'd joined the flock. He looked more enraptured than the others, his mouth open, eyes wide, staring at her. She knelt before him, making a quick decision that he shouldn't be around for this. In the particular vocal note that would end his enthrallment, she murmured for his ears alone, "Run along home, before I carve out your inner organs."

The threat was uttered just to give him enough fear to obey, and with a jerk, he did. Spinning on his heel, he ran headlong down the sidewalk and disappeared around a corner.

"What did you say to him?" the voice demanded.

She rolled her eyes. "I told him to fetch me an ice cream cone."

"Liar!"

She flashed a grin. "Guilty as charged. Now, how about we talk face to face?" she asked, eying the skies.

"Ha!" he returned. "You just want me within range of your skin."

_Guilty as charged,_ she agreed, mentally repeating herself. Instead of answering, she challenged, "How about you come down here and we'll find out?"

"Not a chance. Now, tell me what it is you want. Go on," he urged when she didn't immediately answer. "Tell me the whole plan. Every last detail. I won't judge."

She started to laugh, and the people all around her began to swoon at the sound. "Fool!" she finally forced out. "I won't be revealing _anything_, least of all _to you._ I know better - unlike _some_ supervillains." This last was aimed at him, and the silence that greeted her told her he'd picked up on it.

"I see," he said at last. "You demand an audience with the defender of Metrocity, I, Megamind, before you ever answer any of my questions."

"Bingo," she agreed.

"Very well. But don't say I didn't warn you."

_Of what?_ she wondered.

A series of blasts seemed to come at her from all directions, but though she tensed to dodge, none of them connected with her. Instead, her thralls surrounding her all began to shimmer and shrink, until she was the only one standing - amidst a veritable sea of softly glowing cubes.

She bared her teeth in frustration. Her shields were gone. And the power she'd sapped from Ember was so weak she'd barely be able to hold a flame, should she need to.

"Now _that_ was unnecessary," she bit out.

Above her, she heard a humming sound, like an engine. She looked that way and saw that Megamind was above her on his - whatever that was. Some kind of rocket. Blue flames were erupting from the pipes jutting from both sides, it was sleek, and black with painted blue lightning bolts on it. She instantly wanted one.

In fact, she recalled that Roxanne had one already. Again, jealousy seared her, and again, she wanted to tear out the birdie's heart.

_In time,_ she promised herself.

"Afraid I'll _touch_ you?" she taunted him.

He narrowed his eyes. "Tell me your plans for the city. Now."

Domineering. How delightful. She cast him a grin. "Now why would I do that? You'll come to find out soon enough."

He pulled out his gun and aimed it at her. "_Now_ tell me."

She quirked a brow. "I know what that thing does. Mmm, not a very good threat, I'd say. Especially considering it can't hit me."

"Roxanne was aiming left-handed last time," he reminded her. "Me, right-handed? I'm a _much_ better shot. And as for the threat, I could easily lock you up someplace dry and leave you there for a few decades."

"Oooh, so it's like cryogenic freezing and I'd come back in the future? _Sweet!_" She pretended a look of enthusiasm.

He seemed to see right through her, smirking back. "Fake," he chided. "You're so. . ._fake._ Why, I'd even suggest you're faking the whole villain thing!"

She narrowed her eyes. "Willing to bet your life on that, blueberry?"

He pulled his lips back in a visible snarl. "You will _never_ call me that again."

"Oho, struck a soft spot, did I?" she mocked. "A blueberry and a birdie are my targets. This is gonna be _easy._" She clinked her claws under the coat's sleeves, aching to use them.

That seemed to enrage him further. He bit out, "I've never killed a person before, but if you continue to threaten Roxanne, you will be the first."

"Aw, you're a virgin," she mocked. "Cute."

He narrowed his gaze further.

That's when she had the sudden inclination that he was playing or acting something. He wanted to shoot her, and bad. So why wasn't he? Why would he hold back? He'd shot her before. She recalled the odd draining and sucking feeling before she lost consciousness, and the rush of uncomfortable wetness when she'd reformed. So why would he choose not to shoot her now, when she was so clearly mocking him?

He had a plan, she realized. To catch her, to stall her; something. He needed her alive and kicking for it, too. Which meant he wouldn't shoot her.

Slowly, she began to grin. A plan of her own formed in her head, and she darted her gaze around, noting the distances between street lights and buildings and overhangs.

For years, her main outlet for her frustrations and unhappiness had been gymnastics, things she would practice alone and in silence because she couldn't allow anyone to train her. Over time she'd begun comparing herself to ninja, silent stalkers of the night. They were agile, they were quiet, they lived their lives in total solitude. She was like them, minus the code, and plus her ability to take any fall and walk away.

Now she made a show of unbuttoning her coat, allowing it to slip to the ground. He watched her warily, and she saw his eyes darting, following her motions closely. She guessed he was trying to figure out her next move.

She wondered how fast his reactions were.

Not quicker than _hers, _surely. She made a sharp turn, sprinting the few steps it took to reach the building beside her. Her shoes didn't allow for much grip, but it got her up a few feet. She kicked off, grabbed the overhang and yanked herself up, now on the second floor - technically. In another jerk she spun around and leapt to the street light, snagging the horizontal pole and swinging up onto it. A step had her at the edge of it, and she kicked off, rebounding off the building, gaining more height -

She spun around and snagged at Megamind, moving her legs so she'd be able to land on the rocket-thing right behind him. But her claws scraped against metal instead of his back, and she fell right through the rocket, unable to get her grip. The fall threw her into the street light and she hit it hard, denting it with a harsh exhalation. She landed on the sidewalk on her side, feeling the breath knocked out of her.

Pain stung up her side and where her lower back had collided with the pole, but she pushed herself up anyway, dusting her hands. She was only about as tough as _lead_ and she'd learned long ago that she could continue to function just fine, no matter the fall, as long as she ignored the pain. Besides, what pain there was would fade. It was the equivalent of a human falling onto his back, hurt just about as much, and was as easily recovered from.

Now she glared up at what she knew was a hologram. "Clever," she hissed, her voice betraying the compliment.

His fake-self smirked. "I thought so."

"You understand you'll be getting no answers from me now."

"You were never going to give any to start with," he reminded her.

_Guilty as charged,_ she thought again. "So where does that leave us?" she asked. Part of the reason why she asked was because she didn't know - she was, after all, still very new to the villain thing.

"I believe your next move was to leave my city."

She quirked a brow. "Soon to be _my_ city."

He scoffed. "And what would you call it? _Syphonville?_"

His tone made her wonder if someone had tried something similar once. Still, she replied, "I was gonna go with _Monstrosity_."

He looked surprised. She could tell he was replaying the word in his head, along with his own mispronunciation of _Metro City_. At length he shook his head. "You won't be renaming it at all. Now get out of my city."

She thought over her options, deciding that she couldn't do anything with the cube-people now. Poor Ember. She'd have to remember to break him out of prison once she had Music Man's powers. And with a flourish, she made a mockery of a bow, then swept up her coat and buttoned it around her.

"Farewell," she called over her shoulder. "No, _really_. I want you in good health for when I come back to kill you and your little birdie."

He made a sound like an annoyed or frustrated sigh, then yelled as she was disappearing, "You'll be regretting those words!"

Maybe. As she walked, she inclined her head in thought. Who knows? She couldn't see the future, so of course, _she_ couldn't say she wouldn't. Only time could tell and so on and so forth.

She'd promised to give Music Man more of a break, but it was too late now. She needed his powers, so she'd make an early comeback. And just maybe he'll be willing to actually fight with her. She hoped so; she longed to feel one of his superhuman punches, to see if it could actually bruise her. What a thrill that would be!

Once more she charmed a driver, this time a man in a nice corvette, sleek and black and just _beautiful. _She pet the hood lovingly, careful of her claws, before climbing in and ordering him where to take her. The well-dressed man looked dazzled, and a part of her wanted to kiss him on the cheek in repayment for the adorable looks he was giving her, but the pain would snap him right back into focus.

So instead she sat back and let him drive. Once the schoolhouse was within view, she had him stop. For a reason she couldn't discern, she didn't want this building becoming widely-known; a part of her had a great amount of respect for hidden lairs and fortresses. She preferred for supers to keep their hideouts secret.

She leaned into the car before shutting the door, saying, "Now speed on back home, you miserable worm. One more second near you and I'll have to decapitate you." She'd spoken in _that_ tone.

Now he snapped out of it, and his eyes widened to a monstrous degree before he put the car in reverse and sped off, giving her only a split second of time to slam the door shut - again, careful of her claws. She didn't want to hurt the beautiful vehicle. No, in fact, she wanted one for herself.

_One step at a time,_ she reminded herself. In all likelihood she'd be flying by dusk, which means she'd have no use for cars.

As if she owned the place, she walked down the now-familiar halls and stairs and up to the door. It was locked this time, and she laughed to herself when she realized the joke. With a claw laced in the weak fire powers she still had, she half-broke, half-melted the lock and swung the door open.

It was empty. Again.

But she knew the layout now. As she entered, she pulled off coat, then her claws and gloves, tossing them carelessly to the table. The clatter it made would definitely alert him to her presence, if the sound of the door breaking hadn't done it. She waited.

"You know," a smooth voice began behind her, "breaking and entering isn't just a crime. It's _rude_."

She smirked before turning around and catching his gaze. Music Man, the handsome, slightly-scraggly devil. She rose a brow at him, taking in his ensemble. Black jeans, white-and-yellow sneakers, dark gray t-shirt with a big yellow 'M' on it.

He narrowed his gaze after a moment, crossing his arms as if this were enough to get to her leave. When she only crossed her own arms to match, he bit out, "This is the part where you go right back out the door."

She rolled her eyes. Then, figuring he must have forgotten her promise not to speak, she made a zipper motion across her lips.

Recognition sparked in his eyes. He began, slowly, "Then you're here for my powers. It's only been a day," he reminded her.

She shrugged, then gestured him in a _you look fine to me_ way. Which was true, oddly. Normally it took people much longer to recover when they were so enthralled by her voice. She wondered how strong his powers of recovery were.

She noticed now that he was still on the other side of the room, unwilling to get any closer to her. He must have been communicating with the birdie and the blueberry, she realized. They would have been corresponding anyway, naturally. The old superhero helping the new one. A classic tale. Music Man was the veteran; Megamind was the novice.

She opened her mouth to test a theory, finding that he flinched, though her excuse was to wet her lips. Whether he saw through her trick or not, she didn't know, but his face hardened either way.

Oh yes, she agreed with herself. He feared the sound of her voice now. And though she considered speaking in _that_ tone, she decided against it. It was difficult to continue using just that tone anyway, a strain on her vocal cords. And besides which, she didn't want him knowing - and passing along - that she could counter her own vocal effects. No, that was a secret reserved just for her.

Now she unfolded her arms and gestured him closer with her fingers.

Though he narrowed his eyes, he didn't respond beyond a flicker of his eyes towards the door. Considering escape.

_Don't bother,_ she thought. She knew he could get away if he wanted to, but she also knew he didn't want to leave his home open to her. For all he knew, she would destroy the place.

Little did he know she disliked wanton destruction. She'd much rather leave everything here in its respective places. It looked so pristine, so _organized. _A part of her respected his ability to keep such a nice home.

With a sweeping gesture from him to the door, she mimed that she was alright with taking this outside, offering to do just that.

Arching a brow, he said, "You want to do this outside?"

She gave a pointed nod at him, then at the door.

". . .If _I_ want to do this outside?"

She flashed him a grin, lifting her hand in a thumbs-up.

"Why?" he demanded.

Okay, this was getting them nowhere. And if he refused her offer of leaving the room, fine. She lunged for him.

The quick, sudden attack caught him by surprise, but he twisted around, and her grab missed. Though the roof wasn't very high, he switched to flight, almost flattening himself against the ceiling in his attempts to keep a distance from her.

Thus began the cat-and-mouse chase. She jumped over things, ran into a pillar, knocked over a glass case, accidentally kicked over the table, and was thrown over the couch, knocking it on its back, all in the space of a few minutes. And other than a few huffs, annoyed growls, frustrated groans and pained moans, she never spoke.

All the while he kept out of her range, sometimes just barely. Her fingers caught his foot at one point, hence the part where she was thrown over the couch. She almost - _almost_ - got a grip on his hand once, was close enough she felt his warmth and the hair on the back of his hand, but he'd evaded her that time as well.

Her stamina was about as weak as any human's, maybe a bit better, so by the time those few minutes had passed, she was braced with her hands on her knees, panting. The whole thing made her excited, really; she'd never had such a hard time catching someone before. She was quick, agile, resilient, gorgeous in a dark-skinned pink-haired sort of way, and her voice was undeniably charming.

Apparently, if you took out her voice and faced her against a man with super-speed and flight, she was reduced to chasing her own tail trying to catch him.

Now she was struggling not to laugh, telling herself this shouldn't be amusing. Her plan was to take his powers so she could kill two beings on this planet, which would also have the effect of making him feel unimaginable pain. She knew her touch was akin to having every nerve ending burned, had taken more than enough memories of the occurrence to know for certain.

Over time she'd stopped feeling sympathy for them. Most of the time, in her past, the person had touched _her_, not the other way around. Only recently had she begun reaching out for contact of her own choosing, and of course, recently was exactly the time frame in which she'd chosen her role as a villain.

"Finished yet?" Music Man demanded.

_Don't laugh, don't laugh,_ she chanted to herself, flashing him a grin. Then she stood up straight, making a 't' with her hands, calling for a time-out.

He shook his head. "Uh-uh. You, out," he ordered, pointing at the door.

She arched a brow at him in disbelief. _Yeah, right,_ her expression said. With a flourish, she righted the toppled couch and tossed herself on it, crossing her ankles on the now three-legged, upturned table. _Just come over here to force me out,_ she challenged, _I dare you._

He recognized the challenge, she could tell. In fact, he looked downright frustrated. He couldn't fight her physically because every second near her was a second she could get her uncovered hands on him. And he hated having to run from her, she knew. He'd spent his entire life chasing down criminals and villains, relying on his massive strength and flight to do most of the work.

After deciding she had to have his powers, she'd done her homework on him, spending all night pouring over newspaper articles, interviews, and TV appearances.

Though it was Megamind who'd originally caught her eye, she found herself liking the old Metro Man just a tad more. She suspected her scorned female pride might be playing a part in that decision-making process, but didn't dwell on it. She simply wanted him more than she wanted Megamind. Or more than she _had_ wanted Megamind, and definitely for different reasons.

After all, he resisted her voice through sheer force of will, and she just had to respect someone with that much willpower. And now to find out he recovered from her voice in less than half the time it took a human to recover?

She might as well be in love, she wanted him so bad. As her toy, as her battery, as an enemy, anything. She'd take whatever she could get, as long as it involved interacting with him somehow.

Not to mention he was handsome with a voice she found very charming and lulling. Which was saying something, as she couldn't name off a single person she'd met - or even someone she'd heard speak - who had a voice that could rival her own.

Right now, that handsome face was scowling at her. He kept making tiny motions as if he wanted to come forward, scoop her up, and literally _throw_ her out, but stopped himself each time. He was also refusing to turn his back to her.

A new game arose then, one she found herself grinning in the midst of. The cat-and-mouse game had ended with him the victor, but how would _this_ one turn out? She had a shot at it, that's for sure. He wanted her out, clearly unwilling to simply find a new fortress to be his home. But he couldn't touch her and was smart enough not to turn his back to her. It was a waiting game, to see whose will would break first.

A thrill went through her as she thought it over. He had the greatest amount of willpower of anyone she knew, after all. She wondered how long it would take for him to submit and just let her steal his powers. Or - if she looked at things fairly - how long it would take for her to give up on getting his powers and leave on her own.

Hours? Days? She doubted it would last weeks, but who knew?

Good thing she had nothing else on her agenda.


	6. Part VI

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

**_Syphon_**

_Part VI_

* * *

Roxanne saw the entire exchange on the monitor, glowering at the end. Okay, so he was tricky, sending a brainbot in his place, but Megamind had still taken too much of a chance. When she saw Syphon flip around and pull herself up the building like that to reach him, her heart had almost stopped.

So when Megamind, triumphant in his latest endeavor, returned to the lair with a wide grin, satisfied with himself, he met an infuriated Roxanne.

She'd been waiting for him by the control center, arms crossed. His grin faltered before he cemented it in place, coming nearer to her.

"So. . .I won!" he started, apparently trying to force his good mood onto her.

She narrowed her gaze. "I saw," she intoned.

He cleared his throat, glancing around. "S-so. Where's Minion?"

"He left to give us some privacy," she answered. In fact, Minion had noticed her disposition and excused himself with a muttered _"don't want to be here for this. . ."_

Megamind paled just a little. He began tapping his fingers together. "He left, huh?" he repeated.

She could see he was retreating, both mentally and physically. He took a step or two back, clearly knowing he was in trouble. Repeating what was spoken was a nervous habit of his that he displayed only when he knew he'd screwed up somehow. It was a new habit, too; up until recently, he would force himself on blindly, thinking up excuses and changing subjects.

It made her believe he really didn't want to deceive her in any sense of the word, so this was his way of admitting that he'd done wrong.

"Don't you dare walk away," she warned.

He froze as if she'd said _red light!_ Then he swallowed. "Okay. Right. . ." He glanced this way and that, finally settling on her. He sighed. "What did I do?" he demanded at last.

"You put yourself in danger," she reminded him.

"It's part of being a hero," he countered.

"After you told me you'd only talk!"

"I _did_ only talk!"

"You pulled your gun on her! That's provocation!"

"_I_ did nothing of the sort! The brainbot in my place did!"

"Did _she_ know that?"

"Eventually, I'm sure she did," he added almost to himself.

"Eventually!" she echoed, throwing her hands in the air. He winced.

"Now, now, Roxanne," he started, gesturing to her in a _calm down_ manner.

"Don't _now, now_ me!" she snapped. "You could have at least told me you were going to trick her like that! I almost had a heart attack watching you two!" At his sudden, shocked look, she added, "It's a figure of speech. I didn't really come close to having a heart attack."

"Oh," he sighed. "Good. I mean - no. Look, I'm sorry you fell for the trick, but it didn't even come to mind until after I left you and Minion here."

"How hard would it have been to yell over your shoulder, _'By the way, I'm going to trick her using holograms?'_ God, I swear, it's like you just. . ." She trailed off into a series of frustrated noises, gesturing with her hands in grabbing, choking, and hitting motions.

He winced again. ". . .Not very," he allowed. "But, come on. You know the phrase. To fool your enemies, you must first fool your friends."

Okay, she wasn't expecting him to quote a video game character, despite it being a really good quote. A part of her indignity melted away. At length, she gave a sigh. "Alright, fine. I can see the logic in that. But really, you know what I was thinking?" He looked curious, if a bit apprehensive, so she went on, "I was thinking that she was going to get you and be able to take you to wherever-her-lair-is and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

He looked down at his feet, akin to a scolded child. He murmured something.

Assuming he didn't want to repeat himself, she ignored that. "Just don't. . .leave me in a situation like that again. I hate being scared." She hugged herself.

When he glanced up, his eyes were surprised. In fact, his whole expression read disbelief. He repeated, "Scared?"

"Yes, scared."

"You don't get scared," he pointed out, looking at her now as if he didn't know her.

She felt a sting of hurt at his words, as if he'd just belittled her somehow. What, she wasn't human enough to feel fear? She shook her head. "Of course I get scared. Everybody does."

He considered that for a few moments, finally saying, "But you never looked scared. . .before. When. . .you know. . ."

_I used to kidnap you._

"That was different. I know this might be a little hard to believe, but I had faith in you, even back then." She shifted, uncomfortable with admitting that tidbit.

"Faith?" he echoed, eyebrows shooting up. "In me? You believed in me?"

"I. . .ah. . .how do I say this," she added to herself, glancing away as she thought it over. She bit her fingernail as she considered phrases. At length she looked back up, saying, "Of course I didn't _trust_ you back then. You would lie and cheat and you were always trying to get me to scream. But I could see the effort you put into your creations, your machines, everything. I knew you wouldn't use a single one until you were sure it would work perfect.

"So what I had faith in was your ability to make them work flawlessly, and your restraint. That's why I always sat still in the chair. I knew if I moved, I could get nicked by something, but if I was stayed still, I was perfectly safe. You never actually put me in any danger. It just. . .may have taken me a few 'nappings to realize that."

His eyes were taking up the majority of his sizable dome now. And they appeared to be glossed with tears. His bottom lip began trembling.

"Oh, you," she sighed even as she smiled. She stepped forward, opening her arms, and he snatched her up, clutching her as he buried his face in her neck.

Though he didn't cry, he _did_ sniffle, which tickled her just a little. He murmured broken thoughts like _"faith"_ and _"in me"_ and _"can't believe it"_. She just kept hugging him, at length beginning to stroke his back with her hands in what limited range she had, smiling. The last of her anger faded, and with its departure, she could really see the genius of today's confrontation.

Despite looking for him from the multitudes of cameras, she'd never spotted his hiding place. Sometimes the super-genius was just that: ingenious. He could be quirky and a little faulty with most everything else, but sometimes he could really shine.

For a long while they stayed like that, happy and content and maybe a little overwhelmed on his side, until a voice broke in.

"Awww!"

They jerked apart, both of them spotting Minion with a lovesick grin on his toothy face. When they glared at his interruption, he gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry?" he offered. Then he cleared his throat. "R-right. Anyway. Great work out there today, sir," he approved with a grin to Megamind.

Megamind actually expanded as he puffed himself up with pride.

She rolled her eyes. Just what he needed, another shot of ego. She nudged his shoulder to get his attention, then rose her brows. "So, do you promise?" she prompted.

He gave a delicate cough. "To never leave you worried like that again?"

"I'd be happy to demand it in writing," she hinted.

He shook his head. "As if I'd need it. Faultless memory," he reminded her with a gesture at himself, neck to waist. At her impatient look, he hurried on, "Y-yes, I promise. I'll let you in on any further plans like that I may concoct. Unless there's no way to get the information to you," he added to himself, thinking on it.

"Then you will _also_ be promising never to do that on purpose," she said before he could work it his advantage.

He snapped his fingers with a lopsided grin pointed her way. "Foiled again!" he declared. When she smiled, his grin became more solid and he said, "I promise."

"That's what I like to hear," she replied.

Then everything seemed to change, becoming all-business. Megamind set his gaze on Minion, who nodded, and the two began talking quickly. Roxanne followed the conversation to the best of her ability, but despite how well she knew the two, she didn't know them nearly as well as they knew each other. It was a little like how she was with her twin sister Maxine; half of what they communed with each other was nonverbal, and the phrases they used were sometimes inside jokes. All in all, it left bystanders dumbfounded.

Overall, she caught that they were analyzing Syphon, the direction she'd gone, and the convicts. Megamind had rehydrated the civilians but picked up the escaped prisoners and the fiery male, taking the five shimmering cubes with him back here. Minion was to contact the police about the five, work out a delivery of sorts.

Once Minion departed, Megamind turned back to her. "Did the two of you do any work while I was out?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Minion may have gotten back to it after Syphon took off, but I didn't."

He looked just a little irritated at that.

She glared. "I don't care _how_ important the plans are. If I'm mad at you, I'll drop everything and come find you to give you a piece of my mind." She'd spoken with just a little warning.

Surprise flitted over his expression, and then he smirked, as though pleased with this. He replied, "I'll hold you to that."

She inclined her head. "Please do."

"I will."

"I'm waiting."

"Watch me." With a jerk, he pulled her against him, bringing them close. But when she moved in to meet him for a kiss, he twisted, bending her over his arm. The move made her seize him in reflex. Then, with a roguish smirk that made her heart skip a beat, he delivered the kiss he'd just denied her.

For a few moments, it was like drowning, pleasant and serene and just a little passionate. And then it ended and he righted her. However, he didn't release her.

Now he said, "So I'm forgiven?"

How he could still give her the hurt puppy-eyes after a kiss like that, she didn't know, but she suspected he'd done it on purpose. She melted in a sense that was almost _literal_.

"Do you need it in writing?" she teased, unable to resist stringing it out a moment more.

He frowned and the hurt look strengthened.

"Yes, you're forgiven," she laughed, looping her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, glad to see his features smooth over. _Manipulator,_ she chided to herself. He was most definitely learning how to bend her to his will with his words and his looks. "Now I thought we had to get back to work," she hinted.

His fingers on one hand began trailing up her spine. "It could wait a few minutes more," he suggested.

"Do you think _Syphon_ would wait with us?"

His expression deadpanned. "Point taken." He took a step back from her, allowing a hand to slide around and grasp her own. "Back this way?"

She nodded, following when he led, keeping their grips. At length, she said, "So what do you plan to do with the fire-guy?"

"Fireproof the walls," was his answer.

"Hah, funny. But really."

"The only thing I can get ready quickly is a cell made of cinder blocks and glass. The blocks would require a lot of heat to catch fire, but the glass he could melt right through. I don't know the extent of his powers, so it's best if I keep him dehydrated for now."

She stopped then, a thought entering her mind that worried her. When she tugged on him, he turned, giving her a questioning look. "You have five of the cubes, right?"

"Right."

"Aren't they mixed up?" she asked pointedly, thinking that they could accidentally rehydrate the super, believing it was a convict.

"No, no, I kept him separate from the others," he denied, shaking his head.

She released a heavy breath. "Good. For a second there I was worried."

He shrugged a shoulder, pulling on her to continue their trek. "And it isn't like I couldn't take pre-_cayshuns_ -"

"Precautions," she corrected.

"- in case I did mix them up."

"That makes me wonder. . ." she started, using a tone and phrase she knew he couldn't resist. There was nothing he loved more than outright knowledge, whether it be teaching or learning.

He shot an expectant, eager glance over his shoulder. "About what?"

"You mentioned locking Syphon up for a few decades as a cube. Wouldn't she age?"

"Only very little. The ratio for aging while dehydrated is one-to-eight hundred eighty eight." At her silence, he explained further, "It's the equivalent of one hour for every thirty-seven days spent as a cube."

"Wow. So it _would_ be a little like cryogenic freezing."

"Maybe. But I wouldn't try it. The longest I've ever had someone frozen was for three weeks -"

"You had someone frozen for three weeks?" she cut in with a sharp tone.

He winced. "Uhh. . .specifically it was twenty days. More specifically it was four-hundred seventy-six hours. Or even more specifically -"

"_Why_ did you have someone frozen for three weeks?" she interrupted.

"S-someone. . .frozen. . ." he repeated, giving in to his habit again. He scratched his arm absently, avoiding her gaze when she tried to maneuver around and catch his eyes. "Well, this was. . .a long time ago. Way before we met. This man was insulting me and I wanted him to shut up, so I dehydrated him. Then set the cube aside and forgot about it for a while. Later, I rehydrated him, but only to ask about the experience; that was the first time I'd dehydrated anything other than inanimate objects and Minion.

"He took off without answering, and then it occurred to me that he might've been aging a bit. So I found someone else and kidnapped him, taking bits of his skin cells. I dehydrated him right after. The I aged it down to the mitochondrial level, waited three weeks - or, well, until I couldn't stand it anymore - and rehydrated him. I took another sample and let him go, repeating the process of determining the age. The math was complex, but eventually I had it down to decimals. He had aged thirty-two minutes and nine-point-six seconds, so that equaled a ratio of one hour to eight-hundred eighty-eight."

At the end, he gave her a pleased grin, as though proud of himself for having figured it out.

The complexity of his brain never failed to stun her when he went into scientist mode. This time, she found herself thinking that he must have mastered every last theorem laid out by the greatest thinkers in mankind's history. In fact, he'd probably mastered even greater theorems, going above and beyond what humans were capable of comprehending.

The most difficult theorem she could recall was quantum physics. So now she said, "Okay, this is going to come straight out of left field -" confusion swamped his features, so she broke off. "It means out of the blue. Out of nowhere. Without provocation," she settled on. Finally, understanding lit his face. "I'm going to go ahead and assume you've mastered quantum physics. . ."

He rolled his eyes. "Child's play, Roxanne."

"Yeah," she laughed, "for you, maybe. How old were you when you mastered it?"

"Quantum physics?" he checked. "Fifty-eight days." He actually looked unimpressed. But a moment later he was gazing at her with concern. ". . .Roxanne?"

"Fifty-eight _days_?" she echoed. Her mind refused to process this. Even knowing everything she did about the blue super-genius alien before her, she couldn't grasp it. Days. Not years, as she would've guessed, not even months. Just days.

Child's play, he'd said. She hadn't thought he'd meant it _literally_.

He answered, "Well, yes. It actually took me a few days to figure it out but - Roxanne? You're blanking out." He waved a hand in front of her, though she barely perceived it. He began snapping his fingers, making her blink. "A-are you okay? You look. . .uh. . ."

"I'm just having an out-of-body experience," she replied calmly. He seemed to pick up that she was joking, though it did nothing to help him relax. "That's like two and a half months. How would you even have gotten your hands on that information?" she wondered.

"The prison library," he explained. "The wardens there included philosophical books and history books among them. Whatever they could get their hands on that was complex enough to keep a prisoner struggling to understand it for weeks, they had."

"I'm going to _also_ assume you went through every book in that library," she added. It didn't bother her anymore that he'd been raised in a prison; it was unorthodox, but in the end, he'd had a family of sorts with the prisoners and - as much as she may hate to admit it - there was probably nowhere else in the city that would have taken him in.

"Within a year," he shrugged.

"God," she sighed, "is there anything written or otherwise that could stump you?"

"I'm still trying to figure out the reset button," he offered weakly.

"Liar," she chided with a smirk. "You said it was impossible."

"Making possible the _im_possible is part of living, I thought," he countered.

She chuckled. "Then why don't you start with the square root of a negative?"

"Actually, that's not too difficult. All you have to do is -"

She lifted a hand for silence. "Save it. I would never understand it anyway."

Now he narrowed his gaze. "Who told you you couldn't figure it out?"

"Nobody. It goes without say. With my IQ - heck, with my comprehension, it's way out of my grasp. I couldn't even figure out _quantum physics_ and I'm an adult. I'm pretty sure the rest is beyond me, too."

"Not even quantum physics?" Surprise colored his features. "It's really not difficult. Look, I could show you, it would only take a minute -" He broke off, pulling on her.

She pulled back. "We don't really have _time_ for this, remember?"

"Just a minute," he stressed.

"You shouldn't bother. I won't get it."

He huffed. "Really, Roxanne, it's like you're doubting yourself _and_ my ability to teach you."

"I kind of am," she admitted. "For one, I couldn't learn it in four years of college, and for two, it's hard to follow along your thought trains anyway. There is _no way_ -"

"You can learn this," he argued.

"Exactly!" she agreed, twisting her hand free to stop the pulling.

He stumbled forward, gracing her with a confused frown. She could see the wheels turning as he replayed their sentences, putting the words together. Then he scowled. "I'm serious, Roxanne," he said at last.

"So am I," she returned. They faced off, both stubborn. She was honestly surprised - and flattered - that he thought he could teach her quantum physics, of all things. But it seemed badly-timed and more like he wanted to prove his point than actually teach her anything. At length, she sighed. "All right, I'll give you this. Put this subject on hold. We'll come back to it later, and I'll let you take a crack at teaching me quantum physics, but I'm not making any promises about understanding a single thing."

She remembered having a hard time with figuring out the rate of slopes in line graphs. Now that years had gone by, she had lost her grasp of it completely. If it was this hard to remember mathematical formulas, she doubted she would ever understand the more harrowing aspects of _quantum physics_.

He positively preened, smiling wide. "Alright. I'm holding you to that," he added in a sly tone.

"Please do," she laughed. "Now, I believe we left off," she hooked a thumb over her shoulder, "somewhere between blueprints and prototypes."

"I _love_ it when you talk nerd," he teased as he started them off again, taking her hand.

"I only do it for you," she winked back.


	7. Part VII

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

_Note:_ I had a huge mental debate about this chapter. Like the one before, it didn't seem to go very far. But I never intended for this fic to be solely about Syphon and the battle against her; I also wanted it to further Megamind and Roxanne's relationship. So while this chapter doesn't make much progress towards the eventual battle for Metro City, I believe it _does_ make progress for our favorite couple.

* * *

_Syphon_

_Part VII_

* * *

After a full day had passed without a return performance of Syphon, Roxanne began to relax. The woman was regrouping - which should be a bad thing, she reminded herself, but she couldn't make herself be afraid. She had total faith in Megamind's ability to thwart the villainess, so there was little reason to fear her return. Still, things were tense, both in the city and in the Lair.

She was sleeping here now, since Megamind doubted she would be totally safe in her apartment. Syphon's threats to her life had shaken him _that much._ Usually there was no way to get past his self-important flamboyant nature and overconfidence; Roxanne now knew for certain that if he had a weakness, it was her. An ironic thought, considering that for years everyone assumed she was _Metro Man's_ weakness. Even Megamind had believed in it. Now she was, in truth, Megamind's weakness.

The fates had a good laugh over this turnaround, no doubt.

There was no spare bedroom in the Lair, so she'd slept on the oversized black couch, complete with a mountain of black pillows and three fluffy black comforters in the total black shadow of night. So she'd made a mental note to force him to install more windows, lower (the current windows were all roof-level and wide but not tall), if he intended to remain living here. There was something to be said for being able to go straight from stargazing to sleep by taking only two steps.

Windows first, she promised herself. Color later. That'd probably be a lot harder to get him accustomed to.

Luckily it hadn't been devoid of _all_ light; several brainbots had decided to circle around her. The majority of them were growing attached to her, to the point where she often had one or more hanging around her shoulders or thighs, "barking" in their unique way for attention. But they were kinder at nighttime, polite, even; they'd laid down in various spots around her and "slept".

It had been a struggle to even secure the couch for herself, in actuality. Megamind had been at war with himself over the issue. It was almost amusing, if it hadn't been so shocking to be privy to. He'd paced back and forth, tossing comments at her every so often, taking up the rest of the "debate" by telling himself he should give up his bed for her (a small part of her was surprised he had one; in the past, he'd never stayed out of prison long enough to sleep for a full night outside) and then telling himself that it would be too awkward and she shouldn't see the things he'd done to his bedroom anyway.

That last part made her itch with curiosity in a literal sense.

So, after an eternity that'd lasted all of three minutes of his self-debating, he'd decided on the couch. Despite it being his decision and her suggestion to begin with, he had still looked disappointed in himself. Then he and Minion and eight brainbots had set off on a treasure hunt of sorts, returning with the aforementioned mountain of pillows and three comforters (why did he even have so many?), offering them to her.

At first she'd thought he wanted her to choose a pillow and blanket, but instead all of the items had been piled around the couch for her to arrange to her liking. Then, to add embarrassment to the issue, he'd stood there and awaited for her to do just that.

There'd been another eternity-of-three-minutes-long debate between the two of them about the whats and whys about how she didn't _need_ all the items she'd been brought. In the end she couldn't talk him down from his little victory, so she'd accepted the inevitable and began arranging. It was a good thing the couch was so huge, or she'd never have been able to make it all fit.

In the end, one comforter was laid down, a second bunched up as a kind of fluffy down around the edges, and the third she'd actually slept underneath. The pillows all framed her on all sides, several of them half underneath her when she slept. It was so completely over the top. . .

But she hadn't been that comfortable going to sleep in _years_. Okay, so maybe being _over the top_ wasn't such a bad thing after all. Thinking of her bed back in her apartment was beginning to make her ache all over.

The following morning had gone swimmingly, waking to find Minion was cooking breakfast. Peeking around him discovered he was in the midst of making more pancake batter, the first batch already cooked and awaiting Megamind and herself to devour. Not seeing the aforementioned alien at the table, she'd asked Minion about his late morning.

That's when she learned that Megamind was the heaviest sleeper on the planet. Possibly _literally_. She wanted to test the theory by going to try and wake him up, but Minion warned her off - something about Megamind being overly secretive about his bedroom - and besides which, she was hungry.

Not to mention she frowned at how Minion was preparing the second batch. Following the recipe with just a hint of lemon? Okay, but not _great_. She stopped him, pushed him aside, and took over. When he protested, she winked, telling him how this was her way of repaying Megamind's generosity with the bed situation the previous night. Judging by the sly look Minion got, he understood her unspoken words.

"And besides," she'd added, "I know you're a better cook than the average human, but how often do you taste-test?"

That had brought him up short. Brilliant though Minion was, he was still a fish in a mechanical suit filled with water. Taste-testing would only end up as a mistake to never be repeated.

Since the what-if tension concerning Syphon was still prevalent, she didn't get too fancy with the pancakes. A little cinnamon, apples chopped into little cubes - it actually went very well with the hint of lemon already in the mix. Or, well, _she_ liked it. For all she knew Megamind's tastes differed from hers completely; they hadn't ever had a real meal together, so it was hard for her to anticipate what he'd like.

And if he didn't like her pancakes, there was always the first batch still cooling by the wayside.

By the time she was sliding the first finished pancakes onto a plate, there was an uproar from somewhere within the Lair. And judging by the clashing noises and the voices penetrating the silence, she guessed Minion had woken up Megamind - and that he wasn't happy with it. She thought she made out the words "_you let her do __**what**__?_"

More crashing, stumbling noises sounded, coming ever closer, until she perceived the sound of skin sliding on tile. Or, more accurately, polished steel. _Freezing cold_ polished steel.

"Roxanne, stop!" Megamind's voice reached her. She glanced at him as he went on, "You don't have to do this! Minion is a perfectly acceptable cook - he's been preparing meals since I gave him hands!"

The shocked look on his face, somewhere between _what are you doing_ and _why am I letting you_ made her start to laugh.

"Okay, I'm starting to understand this," she said with slow nods, focusing on her task again. "You _literally_ don't want to make me do _anything_ around here. If you could automate everything, you would. I get it." She tossed him a smirk. "But you're about to be treated to grade-A home cooking, so sit down and just enjoy."

At once, the shock melted into confusion, and he finally seemed to take in that she was standing over a griddle and holding a spatula. At the same time, she began to notice his - pajamas? She turned away to hide her snicker. Black pajamas, of course; that was predictable. But she hadn't been expecting to see it adorned with little biohazard and radioactive symbols. Most of all, she hadn't been expecting to see it had a collar. Only a few inches high - minimal, compared to his others - but still.

And this was the man she loved. In all his egotistical, self-righteous, quirky, super-genius glory.

"Take a seat, I said," she ordered without looking.

He obeyed. And, as it turned out, Megamind loved her cooking, as he proved after the first bite by saying to Minion, "You watch all those cooking shows and she's _still_ better than you!"

Minion had winced, but knew the alien well enough to hear the meaning behind the words. He wasn't trying to belittle Minion; he was praising Roxanne's superior ability.

Trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters, Roxanne had replied, "Yeah, well, I've had a lifetime of practice. I started cooking for my family when I was nine; by the time I was twelve, I was making dinner two nights a week."

It had been out of necessity, that. Both her parents worked hard; her mother as a nurse, her father as a security guard. Her sense of righteousness and compassion had come from them, and had been sharpened when they started working double shifts, leaving their nine-year-old to start taking care of the house.

Roxanne, after reminiscing a bit, had finished with, "You never forget things like how to cook. In fact. . .I'd say I've gotten even better."

"Oho, do I sense arrogance?" Megamind had teased.

With a roll of her eyes, she'd sat down to eat her own pancakes.

After breakfast they'd gone straight back to work. Prototypes were undergoing testing today. _Fun!_ It seemed to be Megamind's favorite part of inventing: trying out the invention to see how well it worked. He had a signature prideful grin at every success, or an opposite signature pout at every failure. She enjoyed watching him as he went through the motions of this process, noting how expressive he was.

Of course he'd always been expressive before, but never more so than right then. Right before a test would begin, his eyes would light up like a kid in a toy store. Then, as the testing began, it would switch to total excited focus. She discovered she couldn't get his attention during that stage. Sometimes he would narrow his eyes in concentration, and something told her he was figuring things out, like adjustments and the like. The last stage of this expressive process was the ending: the pout or grin.

After a full day of twenty-seven prototypes, she'd only seen him get a confused look at the end of a test twice. And since she had nothing else to do during the tests, she'd had plenty of time to analyze him.

Oh how embarrassed he'd looked when he found out she'd been watching him. She yearned to tease him, but when he turned his back to busy himself with making notes, she let it go. He was purple and pink enough for one day, she supposed.

Besides, intuition told her he'd find a way to get back at her for making him so flustered, and she'd rather the embarrassment be limited.

In the end, he scrapped fourteen of the prototypes, made notes over three possible successes, and sent the rest back to blueprint. All of the metals and wires were disassembled from the failures, allowing them to be reused. This was the first time she'd seen the brainbots do anything other than float around, send and receive recordings, put on laser shows, or otherwise be watchdogs, so it was an interesting process. She found they could control the intensity of the laser each one had in its "eye", allowing for things from simple shows to complex cutting.

It was a little like watching piranhas, seeing the way they stripped apart mechanical objects and took away the pieces. In seconds a prototype for the shield generator that was twice her size was reduced to its base components and carted away in several dozen pieces.

"Wicked," she'd commented, partially stunned.

Even without looking, she had the feeling like Megamind just puffed up again in his usual manner. She could almost _feel_ his ego swell.

God, isn't that just what the world needed?

The night had been as uneventful as the previous one, with the three of them pouring over blueprints - and now, notes. Most of Megamind's notes that had anything to do with adjustments to volts or degrees were entirely in his own head; he almost never wrote them down unless he was directing Minion to do something. And she found, as she watched him, that most of the notes were written down for two reasons: first, to allow Minion or the brainbots - or her - to get a chance to absorb the information, and second, because it helped him think to see the notes side by side.

She now understood why he hung things from the ceiling on strings. He had a habit of walking around them, eying them as they turned with the weak air currents, viewing them with critical eyes. The placement of them wasn't random, it was _strategic_. New ideas would come to him by watching the swaying and reading the mixed-up texts.

More and more she was beginning to see that he was far more of a genius than she'd ever known - more so than she'd ever cared to see. It made her ashamed of herself, knowing she'd overlooked the true impact of his intellect for the years she'd "known" him. And it made her wonder just how many people were being overlooked in much the same way.

Just in watching him, he made her eyes open a little wider. As if her perception of the world had broadened, she already began to notice things she hadn't before, starting with the objects in easy sight, and trailing back to her own apartment, her home growing up, even her school life.

She'd come out of the epiphany realizing that he'd noticed the way she'd blanked out. He was repeatedly poking her in the arm, talking to her in low tones as if she might attack without warning.

Another eternity-in-three-minutes debate had been required to explain to him that she _wasn't_ going to fall into a coma - no, she wasn't hurt or anything like that; yes, it _was_ odd, but then - and _why_ would he suggest she'd fallen and hit her head when there hadn't been a fall? At length, she finally got him to accept that she'd just had an epiphany, nothing more.

Of course, then she'd had to go on to explain what she meant by _epiphany_ - he misinterpreted it to mean she'd caught some kind of illness - and the circumstances behind it. And not only did he seem shocked that she'd been watching him so closely (again), but dumbfounded that she'd managed to understand everything he did, down to the placements of the notes. Then he'd been a mix of prideful and embarrassed that he'd managed to inadvertently change her outlook.

They'd both ended up blushing, shuffling their feet like schoolchildren.

That night, after dinner, they chatted for a little while by her makeshift bed. The subject ranged from the inevitable "how are you going to beat Syphon" to more random thoughts like "so why don't you ever wear blue, if you love it so much" and "what do you mean, you don't have any DVDs." In the end, when he wished her to sleep well and started to leave, she'd called him back.

"Ahem," she started with. When he glanced back, she folded her arms. "Well?" she prompted.

Confusion swamped his features. "What?" he wondered. "What did I do?"

"You forgot something," she hinted. Technically, he'd forgotten something _twice,_ if you included last night.

He rolled his eyes. "I never forget anything, my dear."

The endearment made her heart beat a little harder. Still, she waved him closer. "Actually, you did. Twice now."

His expression changed to intrigue. What could he have possibly forgotten - not once, but _twice?_ He started nearer, though she could see he was being wary about it, not knowing what to expect. When he reached her, eyes still cautious, she beckoned him closer with a twist of her fingers and a tilt of her chin. He seemed to get it then, a smile blooming to life on his face.

_Exactly,_ she thought. He leaned in, bracing a hand against the back of the couch as he went. She reached up to accept him, running her fingers up his slender neck as their lips met. He made a sound of approval. Her eyes slid closed.

She was struck with indecision then. A part of her knew, without a doubt, that if she tugged on him, he'd collapse atop her. That same part knew it wouldn't _end_ anything if she did; quite the opposite, she had the distinct feeling it would only escalate things. The question now was whether she _should_ or not.

Deep down, she ached for passion. The rumors of being Metro Man's girlfriend had slammed her love life to a screeching halt for a decade, making her unable to get any kind of romantics from anyone in the city. Now that she had someone, a part of her was desperate to act on every little whim. She was repressed _damn it_.

The thing that held her back, however, was the knowledge that Megamind would be even _more_ repressed. Though it almost hurt in a literal way, she pulled away after a few seconds, determined to follow his lead.

"That's what we call a good night kiss," she hinted.

He looked a little dazed, but replied swiftly, "So I'm supposed to give you one _every_ night?" His smile remained in place. In fact, he looked very pleased with this idea.

She batted her eyelashes. "If you want to."

His smile turned lopsided. "And. . .and what about other times? When is a kiss acceptable?"

Her brows lifted. "There's no set of rules about it. If you want to kiss me, kiss me."

He kissed her. "Like that?" he checked as he drew back.

"You catch on quick," she approved with a smirk.

"_Any_ time?"

"Well, provided you still follow the rules of personal space," she hinted. "For instance, if I happen to be taking a shower. . .it's probably not a good idea to choose _then_ to come in and kiss me."

His entire face flamed at her words. She bit her lip in response. _Way to go. This is Roxanne Ritchi from channel eight news, having just embarrassed my boyfriend beyond all rational means._

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," she tried, sheepish.

"I'm okay," he said, though he looked anything but. He straightened, no longer focused on her. His eyes were blank - lost in thought.

Her curiosity rose up. What was he thinking about with such captivation? She longed to get inside his high-powered head, to know what he was thinking. She figured he was the same way with her, always wanting in _her_ head. The difference was that she would probably be swept away and drowned in his mentality if such a thing as telepathy were to occur.

Which should have daunted her desire to delve inside his mind, but it didn't. Typical.

"You sure?" she checked. "I'm not sure what I could do to fix this -" idiotic, stupid, moronic "- blunder, but I'm willing to try."

"I just. . .need to go to bed now. Sleep well," he repeated himself, giving her cheek a last lingering brush with his fingers. His cape brushed over her feet as he turned to walk away.

As soon as he was out of sight, she groaned and fell back, at once swamped by the pillows and blankets. It was like laying in soft marshmallows, practically sinking into them.

A part of her was too embarrassed by what just happened to think of what she could possibly do to fix it. . .but another part was crying inside out of frustration. _Stupid!_ All this repressed passion pulling on her strings and pushing her buttons, and she just let opportunity pass her by. He may have gotten embarrassed too, but there'd been a chance just now, a solid chance, to explore what extent their passions could reach.

Not very far, she'd guess. Megamind was still hyper nervous about everything that involved general boyfriend-girlfriend activities, let alone mutual desire. She knew she was making unconscious signals and knew he was picking up on them, to some degree, but she also knew he'd hold back forever if he had to, if only to be certain he was interpreting things the right way. He was far too scared of losing her to jeopardize their relationship, especially by making a mistake like forcing passion on her when she didn't want it.

So, going to sleep was a solution he'd devised for himself.

She wondered if worked both ways, deciding to give it a shot. She settled into the makeshift bed properly, closing her eyes against the soft glow of the brainbots around her.


	8. Part VIII

**Disclaimer:** "Megamind" is owned by _Dreamworks._ I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

* * *

_Syphon_

_Part VIII_

* * *

Metro-turned-Music Man had a tricky life to lead, these days. As a man who'd faked his own death, he had to be careful in public. And though both his adopted parents lived, he couldn't let them know he was alive. His father tended to shrug things off, never shocked, like his emotions were dulled to nil. His mother was a bit on the slow side in comparison, hyperactive sometimes, even in her old age.

Both had a possibility of accidentally blurting out that he was alive, so he couldn't return to them. Only five people knew he was still around, himself included, and one wasn't technically a person. He needed to keep it that way.

He'd discovered that his scraggly beard and messy hair prevented others from recognizing him immediately, but he wouldn't push his luck. That was precisely why he needed to remain underground while he figured out exactly how he was going to make his dreams a reality.

And exactly why he needed Syphon gone. But the dark-skinned woman was lounging on his couch, waiting for him to get within reach of her. It was frustrating that he couldn't simply pick her up and deposit her in a prison somewhere with a gag in her mouth.

She was a bit of an enigma as she was, he'd noticed. A voice that charmed but with a touch that caused agony. She hadn't actually laid on a hand on him yet, but he feared it would hurt even him. Megamind had described it as an "unimaginable pain unlike anything you've ever felt". And considering Music Man had never technically felt physical pain, that would be a very accurate assessment.

It was a secret of his that his greatest fear was pain. He was mostly afraid that it would debilitate him, as he didn't know how to cope with it, how to work with it. He feared his mind would completely shut down - if not for the pain of a bruise, then for the pain of a broken bone or fracture.

Syphon promised much worse. Would he be able to take it?

Now he tried going through a slew of mental plans - ah, plans. How rarely he'd had to concoct them. Usually all he _needed_ was his strength and speed. Sometimes he'd had to put together an instantaneous plan, like one time he'd crushed a chunk of coal into a diamond to reflect lasers, or another in which he'd taken advantage of Roxanne distracting Megamind (with flirts, no less) to disassemble a complex light bulb puzzle with his laser vision - a clever puzzle, admittedly. It'd been attached to a remote that would set off a series of bombs throughout the city, and the remote would trigger if he made a single mistake in solving the puzzle itself. He recalled Megamind's frustration when the villain had noticed how he'd disassembled the puzzle rather than solve it, calling out sarcastically, "Way to dodge the puzzle, pinhead!"

The fact remains that he'd never had to be much of a thinker. But that didn't mean he _couldn't_ be.

He could put on a pair of his old gloves in an instant, to allow him to touch her. Yet he didn't have anything to protect his face. She was a wily one; he wasn't so sure pinning her arms to her sides would help. After all, she hadn't used her hands on Megamind - she'd used her face. Skin is skin.

Her face was bare, her arms were bare, even sections of her thighs. Though it embarrassed him to consider, he knew she'd use the skin _there_ if she had to. Envisioning her with her thigh on his face made him blush, though women had thrown themselves at him in a similar manner a lot during his lifetime. Hell, women had greeted him fully naked before.

It never failed to embarrass him. Luckily, if it so happened that she got any part of her skin on him, it would probably be too painful to make him nervous. There was a small amount of relief in that.

"Get out," he ordered for the umpteenth time. She leveled her gaze on him, unimpressed and unmoved. That was fine, actually; he was just trying to keep her distracted while he thought up an escape route.

Over the past day, Roxanne had suggested he simply check out of town, go someplace out of Syphon's reach. But - and this was hard to admit - he agreed with Megamind. He still felt some responsibility to the city, even now. And he knew it'd tear him apart if he left the city and she went ahead and rampaged through it. It'd hurt him enough to see it ravaged by Tighten. But he'd known he couldn't interfere; it had been Megamind's turn to save the day.

Since the day he'd faked his death, he'd known one great big truth about the other alien: he'd never been meant to be a villain. Megamind had been good at it through practice, nothing more.

Stepping aside had been exactly what Megamind needed. Unfortunately, he still seemed to be having trouble getting up to speed with being a hero, as was proven by Syphon still having free roam.

Music Man was annoyed with this, even as he told himself to be patient. He'd spent his lifetime fighting for justice, being the hero - carting criminals off to prison within minutes of their appearances. Megamind just needed time to get going.

And time to account for the various problems inherent with defending the most advanced city on the planet. Such as keeping particular buildings out of the thick of battle.

Syphon chose then to open her mouth. He flinched reflexively. "Do you mind if I get a drink?" she wondered.

What?

He stared at her, recalling that she'd had a drink the last time she was here, even as he was dumbfounded that he hadn't felt _anything_ strange at the sound of her voice. Still, he reacted, his form blurring as he slammed doors shut and then returned to his spot within a second.

"Yes, I mind," he replied simply.

She frowned.

That's when a new plan began to form in his head. He could use his super speed to feed himself, but she couldn't do the same. He could _starve_ her out, in a sense. Wait until she was weak from hunger. Deposit her straight to Megamind for dehydration and transportation to the prison.

It occurred to him then that they didn't have a _women's_ prison for the criminally gifted. There'd never been a need before. But he doubted she would have trouble at the current one; no one would ever _want_ to touch her.

He folded his arms and waited. Time was agonizing as it slipped past, to the point where he began counting the seconds for amusement, and he imagined she was doing the same as she stared him down. Regardless, he was unmoved. With his strength, he could mimic a statue for hours on end; he focused on doing so now.

In much the same fashion, she remained seated, unmoving, just watching him. Slowly, the seconds crawled by. Each tick of the clock in the kitchen (too faint for her to hear, but audible to him) was like a tiny torture device. It was difficult not to tap his fingers or shake his leg, but he remained stoic. He argued with himself that while he may not be an official super hero anymore, he was still superhuman, and his victory record was yet spotless - in his own opinion, anyway. He would not lose here.

Eventually, after what must have been an hour, Syphon rolled her eyes back and dropped her head onto the sofa. A moment later, she opened her mouth, the very picture of an exasperated, hormonal teenager. It made him wonder how old she was.

After another few seconds, she took a deep, audible breath, then sighed, the sound halfway a groan. He softened a tad at the sound, then solidified himself again. He wouldn't give in to her voice. Not like he had last time. He was determined to win this game of hers, then get rid of her.

Another idea came to mind, so long as she was looking away. Using his super speed to its utmost, he zipped from the room, sent a text to Roxanne, and returned to his spot. Syphon didn't so much as twitch, so he was confident she hadn't noticed his absence.

There was no return text, even after another dreadfully slow hour had passed. Which was good, really; he didn't want the pink-haired menace before him to know he was in contact with anyone - not that he didn't believe she already knew. No, she was a quick one. It didn't take long for her to deduce that Roxanne had warned him the last time she was here.

Oh how he wished he had something else to think about. But what else was there? His laundry? The number of items that had been knocked over? No, there was just Syphon - and he had to keep focused. Which meant that there really was _nothing else to think about._

He had the sudden thought that he would drive himself insane if he didn't get rid of her soon.

Time began to crawl by again, punctuated solely by the breaths and heartbeats in the room.

* * *

Well after dark, the two were exhausted from the sheer amount of focus they'd been expending. Syphon was now laid out on the couch, one arm hanging off and the other thrown over her head. Blank yellow eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Music Man had eventually collapsed into his chair, tired in a way that had nothing to do with _physical _exhaustion. He, too, was staring blankly at the ceiling. Every so often, one of them would blink or sigh.

By this point, he was plagued with questions about her. Having nothing else to think about had that effect. He kept wondering who and what she was (her powers and odd mix of coloring suggested she wasn't human) and what her ultimate goal was. Not to mention all the little things: did she eat, or just drink? How old was she? Where was she born? Who were her parents? Was she built like him, with more weight than she appeared to have due to a higher density?

An endless stream was in his head, and with each additional question, he found himself thinking more and more that this was something like Stockholm Syndrome. In a twisted way, he was her prisoner. And through the simple fact that she wasn't speaking, he was imagining a personality and scenario for her life. One he could sympathize with.

After having taken a closer look at his past with Megamind, the ex-hero came to conclusion that his rival had only chosen to become a villain because he'd perceived nothing else he could do with his life. Truthfully, Music Man felt responsible for this, at least in part. On the bright side, Megamind _had_ been able to test his brilliance time and again because of it, so it wasn't a complete loss of twenty years of his life.

Now he began wondering if Syphon was in the same position as Megamind - if the choice to become a villain had been forced on her somehow. He imagined she'd had a torturous life with the way her voice and skin worked. So far he'd come to the conclusion that she couldn't control how her skin sapped the life force from those she touched; that meant she'd had no choice but to remain apart from them.

It was so completely at odds with her voice that it seemed to be a cruel trick of whatever God created her. Her voice drew others in; her skin repulsed them. On the other hand. . .if her powers were somehow nature-selected, then that would make her race (if she _had_ a race) seducers and, in all likelihood, murderers. Maybe she got energy from other living things through her skin instead of eating. Maybe it was a natural defense.

Or maybe she was some kind of super mutant (there were dozens of them in the world so far) and some God had indeed played a cruel joke on her.

At length, he groaned. This was ridiculous. He supposed he might as well feed his curiosity, if the questions had large breaks between them - and if the two of them were going to remain like this for the next several hours.

"Syphon," he said at last. He heard her move but didn't look. "What are you?"

He heard her move again and sigh. "I don't know," she answered.

He shook off a slight dizziness at the sound of her voice. The effect wasn't so bad, so he went on, "So you don't think you're human?"

"I'm not," she agreed.

Another pull assaulted him, but it was just as easily dispelled. _Huh._ This wasn't so hard after all.

She went on, "Don't think I'll be generous and give you time to recover if you keep up this line of questioning."

When no effect was apparent, he analyzed the sound of her voice more closely. It was. . ._different,_ just slightly. As if she'd been speaking in a tone a single note lower that time. It was curious, possibly a way to nullify the effects of her voice, so he put it aside till later - something to relate to Megamind.

Which meant, ultimately, that she _knew_ she could counter the effects of her voice, and that she'd been doing so now. She didn't want him affected by her voice. She was. . ._keeping her promise._

"Noted," he said now. He lifted his head, thinking he had a good chance to get more information out of her. "Syphon," he repeated.

She turned her head to see him.

"It's not your real name, I'm assuming?"

She shook her head with a raised brow, as if to say, _Whose super villain name ever is?_

"Tell me," he prompted.

She gave a disbelieving laugh. The sound made his body relax a margin.

"Okay, fine," he sighed. "How old are you?"

Staring up at the ceiling again, she quirked her head and moved her lips, as if repeating his question in a mocking tone.

. . .So maybe he _couldn't_ get more information out of her. Was she onto him?

Then she groaned, covering her face with her hands. "This is going to sound ridiculous," she said, and he almost wavered at her voice, "but do you have a bathroom?"

He regarded her with a silent, stunned look for so long that she chanced a glance at him. At length, he said, "Are you serious?"

She sat up, frowning at him. "All my plumbing works," she hinted dryly - he felt no effect at her words, so he figured she was using that tone again. He paid closer attention to the exact sound. "And I've been holding it back since before I got here. Do you or don't you?"

He rubbed his eyes with his hand. "I can't believe this," he muttered.

"I'm right there with you," she sighed.

He pointed. "Through that door, make a left."

"I'll be back," she said as she got up, hopped over the couch, and disappeared.

"Oh good," he replied with heavy sarcasm. "I was worried you might leave."

She barked a sudden laugh and his head swam in reaction. He shook himself, stood up, paced. Then decided he might as well feed himself and hurried into the kitchen. He ignored the sounds from the other side of his underground hideout as he reheated last night's spaghetti and ate it. In the end, the misplaced hospitality he'd been feeling won out, and while he was in there, he made a few drinks.

He'd gotten the broken table stable again and had a long island iced tea set out for her when she got back, sipping on a personalized version of a mud slide himself.

She stopped dead when she saw her drink, then frowned at him. She said nothing, but her expression asked the question.

He shrugged. "I could always pour it out," he offered.

With a skeptical look at him and equally skeptical sniff at the drink, she settled back onto the couch.

Apparently, she suspected it was drugged somehow (though he'd always considered alcohol itself a kind of drug) and he kicked himself for not thinking of doing just that. It wouldn't have worked, in all likelihood; he didn't know the first thing about chemistry - hence, no chance at putting together some kind of home-made paralytic or sleep-inducing concoction. Not to mention he had his doubts it would work on her.

Roxanne had told him how Syphon had fallen off the very top of Metro Tower and landed on her feet, carrying Roxanne no less, then walked away. Such resilience usually doubled towards internal tolerance - a lesson he'd learned the hard way. It took him six times as much alcohol consumption to get drunk as the average human.

At last, she took a tentative sip, then graced him with a shocked look.

"What?" he wondered. "I thought women liked sweet tea." Even the alcoholic type of tea.

She gave him a silent thumb's up with a wink.

So she _did_ like it. He was unsure how he should feel about that. She leaned back, lounging, as she sipped the drink. After a few moments, he mimicked the pose, relaxing into his favorite chair.

"This changes nothing," he warned after another pause.

"Agreed," she replied easily with a flip of her hand.

That one word was particularly lilting, he noticed. He almost teetered - might have, had he been standing. He shook his head. And due to that one word and its effects, he pieced together aspect about her vocal powers: she could just as easily nullify it as she could empower it.

The last time she was here, he hadn't had time to analyze anything. He'd been completely (embarrassingly) swamped in the odd euphoria her voice caused. It'd gotten bad enough that he recalled having a fleeting thought about writing a song about her. Once his head had cleared, he'd been appalled with himself - and angry with her. He had assumed she had total control over her voice, that she'd put effort and strategy into making him pliant like he'd been.

Now, it appeared just the opposite was true: she didn't have much control over her voice at all. She hadn't been actively trying to force him into servitude (though he also recalled how softly she'd been speaking and concluded she had put some effort into strengthening the effect). Her voice simply seduced and calmed anyone who heard it.

For a while, he toyed with the idea of trying to get more information out of her again. There was a chance she was a lightweight when it came to drinking, after all; she might loosen up and answer honestly. But if he kept prying and she _wasn't_ a lightweight, she would certainly grow wise to his questions. And then she might stop playing nice and go right ahead, using her voice the way her nature seemed to demand.

He decided against it. For now, for as long as he could keep it up, he was going to do his damnedest to keep her here. It was part of his plan: keep her calm, complacent, and playing fair in this game of hers, while Megamind went on developing his counter-measures to her odd convergence of powers.

Which meant also doing whatever he could to keep her interested - and _happy_. Hence the long island iced tea and use of his bathroom.

Some time later, he frowned at his glass, noting how the mud slide was gone. He couldn't chance getting drunk himself, lest he slip up and have her take advantage of the moment to get her hands on him. So instead, he continued frowning at the large bowl of his glass, considering licking its insides to get at the rest of the drink.

He foresaw a very long night ahead.

* * *

He held off as long as he could before checking the clock for the rest of the night. Eight o'clock went by, then nine, nine-thirty, ten-forty, eleven-fifteen, midnight, one a.m., one-fifty, two-thirty, three-ten, four. . .

Syphon's breathing changed, becoming deeper and heavier. He looked over at her, almost unbelieving. Her glass was empty, a few drops still clinging to it on the table. She was stretched out on the couch again, facing the back, her head on the arm.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked _through_ her, examining her lungs and heart, listening as well. Slow, steady beat of the heart. Even breaths. He zipped around the couch and looked through it, finding her face was relaxed, eyes closed, lips parted. Just to be certain, he also made a quick examination of her entire body, focusing on the muscles. They were all loose, relaxed (and a few were definitely alien of the human muscle structure).

At last, he leaned back and confirmed it. She'd fallen asleep.

Curiosity assaulted him at her sudden unknowing vulnerability. He still feared pain, yes, but he started to see this as an opportunity. Afraid as he was of pain, he couldn't deny that he wanted to know what it felt like. He focused on her bare shoulder as he thought it over. He could. . .touch her. Just a tap. Like how humans tapped hot pans on the oven to see if it was too hot to handle. Just to see if it _would_ hurt, and how much. To see if it did anything at all.

After all, he had no idea if it'd work or not. He wasn't resistant to her voice, but that's because it was audio. He was resistant to _all_ things physical; there was a good chance her physical powers would do nothing. Bullets, fire, lasers, concrete, UV radiation, even paper cuts did nothing to him. Alcohol was almost useless and it took several times longer for nutrition to be absorbed into him than it did for a human.

He started to extend his hand, watching her closely in case this was some sort of trick. _Just a tap,_ he promised himself. _If she moves, I can be on the other side of the planet before she could reach me._

His heart started to speed up. If this debilitated him, like he feared it would. . . If one touch knocked him out, he'd be at her mercy.

_If. _

He reminded himself that fortune favored the bold, but his mind came back with the rule about cats and curiosity. In the end, he gave in to temptation.

The lightest touch he could manage, he promised himself again.

He had no idea how slowly he was actually moving, being so focused on his extended index finger, but it _felt_ like eternity. Closer. . .closer. . . He hesitated, swallowed, eyed the millimeter between his peach-colored flesh and her darker brown shade, then pressed down.

A shock rent right through him, making him think "_electricity!"_ and jerk back. He just barely kept himself from shouting at the unwanted sensation that had torn through him. He shook his hand, focusing on making the appendage stop throbbing. In no time at all, it faded, leaving him uninjured with no mark to show for his wound.

But it had left a tiny mental scar. Now that he knew what pain was, he wasn't surprised that it was such a useful disciplinary tool; he probably would have caved if such measures had been used to steer _him_. And he was even _less_ surprised that so many people feared it. All those times he'd rolled his eyes to watch people flinch as they got shots suddenly seemed cruel. Those flinches were _necessary_.

Now that the pain was gone, though, the memory fading, he found himself doubting how he'd reacted. It hadn't been _that_ bad, had it?

A need to double-check pulled his hand back down, and again, he tapped her.

Another shot from his fingertip up his entire arm, and for the second time, he shook his hand as he bit back curses. He'd never felt more stupid than just then; he _knew_ he would react like this, and yet he'd done it anyway. Despite this, his mind went in a loop, making him frown.

It hadn't hurt that much, really. . .


End file.
